IRLF 


By  F.  W.  BAIN 

Translated  from  the  Original  Manuscripts 

A  Digit  of  the  Moon 

And  Other  Love  Stories 
from    the    Hindu 

A   Draught    of    the    Blue 

together  with 

An  Essence  of  the  Dusk 
An  Incarnation  of  the  Snow 


An 
Incarnation  of  the  Snow 


I  flash  and  glow  on  Being's  Brow,  and  my  snow-cold 

Ooze  is  Love's  life-blood^ 
And  I  wander  over  the    Waves  of  Time,  where  the 

World-wrack  drifts  in  my  Silver  Flood. 


An  Incarnation  of  the  Snow 


Translated  from  the  Original  Manuscript 

By 

F.  W.  Bain 


And  the  moonflowers  hear,  on  the  far   blue  Mere 

Where  only  the   wild  swans  go> 

What  the   Great  God  whispers  into  the  ear 

Of  the  Daughter  of  the   Snow. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New   York  and   London 
Imfcfcerbocfcet  press 
1908 


COPYRIGHT,  1908 

BY 
F.  W.  BAIN 


Ube  ftnicfcerbocfeer  press,  itew  Jpocft 


nc 


Dedicated 

to 
S.  O.  B. 


242416 


Preface 

TARTARY,  says  the  Abbe  Hue — himself  the 
most  imaginative  and  inimitable  of  all  wan- 
derers— is  peopled  with  pilgrim  birds:  "high 
up  in  air,  you  see  them  roam,  in  dense 
battalions,  forming  in  their  flight,  with  a 
kind  of  drill  in  its  caprice,  a  thousand  quaint 
designs,  which  melt  away  only  to  be  formed 
anew."  So  also,  that  region  of  vast  and 
melancholy  plains,  stretching  and  rising  south- 
ward ever  to  the  white  wall  of  huge  Himalaya, 
is  the  very  home  of  lakes:  "Koko  Nurs": 
blue  lovely  sheets  of  sapphire,  scattered  like 
fragments  of  a  broken  mirror  to  spot  earth 
with  the  colour  of  the  sky.  And  one  of  these, 
hidden  away  in  the  all  but  inaccessible  snows 
just  south  of  Kailas  (where  the  Great  God 
dwells)  is  the  sacred  Mountain  Tarn,  MANASA  : 
and  thereby  hangs  our  tale,  whose  title  is  so 
idiomatic  that  it  can  be  rendered  into  English 


vi  Preface 

only  by  a  paraphrase,  losing  a  little  of  its 
Indian  aroma  on  the  way.  It  says  to  us  this : 
What  the  Swan  is  to  the  Lake,  what  the 
Moon  is  to  the  Sky,  what  Pdrwati  (the 
Daughter  of  Himalaya)  is  to  her  Lord,  that 
is  woman  to  the  world:  the  Haunter,  the 
Indweller,  the  Ornament,  the  Fixed-Idea, 
the  Mystic  Solitary  Swan  in  the  heart  of  the 
dark  blue  lake  of  Time. 

There  would  be  more  than  a  grain  of  truth 
in  the  assertion,  that  all  old  Hindoo  literature 
is  little  but  a  long  hymn  to  the  Moon.  It 
moves  in  a  lunar  atmosphere,  found  nowhere 
else  on  earth;  a  strange  holy  twilight,  sugges- 
tive of  another  world.  Nothing  is  so  dreamy, 
so  utterly  remote  from  everyday  reality,  as 
this  enchanted,  ghostly  air.  And  yet  it  is 
easily  intelligible,  since  the  normal  condition 
of  those  who  live  in  it  is  the  occasional  ex- 
perience of  every  common  mortal.  For  who 
has  not,  now  and  then,  fallen  under  the  spell, 
and  found  himself,  so  to  say,  diabolically 
snared  into  the  worship  of  the  Moon?  Who 
is  there  that  has  not  felt  that  planetary  influ- 


Preface  vii 

ence,  that  magnetic,  half  mysterious  attrac- 
tion, that  Lohengrinesque  amalgam  of  dusky 
camphor  and  mountain  snowflake,  silver  of 
swan  and  foam  of  sea,  which  oozes,  as  the 
Hindoos  say,  out  of  the  evening  moon? 
Nature  can  sing  it  to  herself,  by  means  of  her 
magical  creation,  the  voices  of  the  nightin- 
gales, "at  shut  of  eve":  but  what  articulate 
Endymion1  could  ever  put  his  passion  into 
words? 

I  well  remember  a  moment  when  I  was  my- 
self almost  bewitched,  the  day  the  Prince  of 
Wales  arrived  in  India,  in  1905. 

On  that  auspicious  morning,  all  was  enthu- 
siasm and  tumult  in  Bombay.  Viceroys  and 
Rajas,  dignitaries  of  all  descriptions,  civil  or 
military,  Eastern  or  Western,  were  jostling  one 
another  to  do  honour  to  the  heir  of  Empire. 
There  was  to  be  found  everybody  in  India 
who  was  anybody.  But  I,  being  unfortun- 

iQuid  est  credere  in  Deum?  asks  S.  Augustine,  and  he 
answers:  credendo  amare,  credendo  diligere,  credendo  in  Eum 
ire  et  Ejus  membris  incorporari.  We  have  only  to  change 
the  gender  to  see  how  narrow  is  the  line  that  divides  relig- 
ious ecstasy  from  sexual  emotion. 


Vlll 


Preface 


ately  nobody,  far  away  in  the  purple  ghauts, 
had  risen  long  before  the  sun,  and  in  the  pale 
cool  shadowy  dawn,  while  yet  "the  faint  east 
quickened,"  I  went  obscure,  down,  down: 
down,  past  bushes  of  deep  red  shoeflower, 
glimmering  out  of  dusky  brakes:  down  by 
winding  leafy  roads,  past  long  ascending 
grunting  files  of  early-rising  nearly  naked 
copper-coloured  sons  and  daughters  of  the  soil, 
bending  under  bowing  loads  of  rustling  grass 
that  hid  their  heads :  past  giant  cactus  candle- 
sticks, festooned  with  hanging  chains  of  blue 
convolvulus,  and  perched  where  you  might 
have  dropped  a  stone  suddenly  into  the 
tops  of  trees,  a  thousand  feet  below:  past  here 
and  there  a  monster  spray  of  white  "  wild 
arrowroot,"  standing,  a  little  bent,  alone 
with  its  own  loveliness  ineffable,  against  a 
background  of  the  dark:  down,  down,  by 
jagged  rocky  paths  resembling  what  in  fact 
they  were,  the  dried-up  beds  of  torrents,  fit 
rather  to  be  monkeys'  ladders  than  ways  for 
voice-dividing  men:  down,  hour  by  hour, 
until  at  last  the  sun  was  high,  and  I  came 


Preface  ix 

out  into  a  steaming  airless  valley,  through 
which  a  little  brook  ran  babbling,  its  waters, 
clear  as  crystal,  flashing  with  swarms  of  tiny 
minnows,  so  brightly,  as  to  be  almost  painful 
to  the  eye.  Then  on  along  a  white  and  glaring, 
dusty  road,  where  flocks  of  emerald  parrots 
shot  and  screamed  about  the  trees:  and  then 
once  more,  up  and  up,  by  a  dark  and  cool 
delicious  forest  path,  like  the  very  road  to  the 
bower  of  a  Sleeping  Beauty,  and  steeper  than 
the  way  to  heaven,  till  finally  I  gained  the 
top,  and  stood  within  the  old  Maratha  fort. 
This  old  hill-fort,  built  of  black,  cyclopean 
blocks  of  basalt,  whose  every  crevice  holds  a 
tiny  fern  of  brightest  green,  juts  out  into  the 
sky,  on  the  very  edge  of  a  precipice,  dropping 
on  its  western  side  almost  perpendicularly 
down  two  thousand  feet  and  more.  So  there, 
on  the  very  verge,  between  the  rank  red- yel- 
low jungle  growth  that  fills  the  deserted  fort 
within,  and  the  empty  space  below,  I  lay  as 
it  were  suspended,  like  Trishanku,  in  the  air. 
And  now,  it  was  nearly  noon.  Great  blue, 
metallic  butterflies  lazily  floated  by  me:  the 


x  Preface 

jungle  sighed  and  whispered,  just  behind  me; 
and  an  insect,  every  now  and  then,  flashed 
past  my  ear  with  a  fierce  and  sudden  hum, 
that  was  lost  as  soon  as  heard.  Far  down 
below,  a  hawk  was  hovering,  motionless  as  in 
a  picture.  And  every  now  and  then,  a  pair 
of  great  white  vultures,  circling  majestically 
about  above  the  walls  against  the  clear  blue 
sky,  startled  me  by  the  rushing  roar  of  their 
outstretched,  black-edged  wings,  as  they 
swooped  close  beside  me,  one  bright,  keen, 
curious  eye  fixed  on  the  strange  intruder, 
who  all  the  while  was  lying  still,  drinking  in 
with  ear  and  eye  the  menacing  and  sinister 
beauty  of  the  wilderness  of  wild  hills  that  lay, 
with  silence  brooding  over  them,  red  and 
barren  and  burned  and  blistered,  far  as  the 
eye  could  see,  north,  west,  and  south:  throb- 
bing, as  it  were,  and  quivering,  like  some  vast 
alembic  of  molten  metal,  changing  colour  in 
a  bluish  glare,  or  one  of  those  old  deserts 
produced  by  the  "enchantment"  of  some 
African  magician  in  the  old  Arabian  Nights 
of  childhood,  the  only  true  Arabian  Nights, 


Preface  xi 

that  tell  of  lands  no  man  knows  where,  beyond 
strange  yellow  seas. 

And  as  I  lay,  sharing  with  the  vultures  the 
vast  distance  and  the  dizzy  depth,  the  draught 
of  the  infinite,  the  old  blessing  of  Joseph,  in 
a  far  off  Syrian  land,  suddenly  rushed  into  my 
mind.1  Here,  on  the  tops  of  "ancient  hilles," 
you  seem  to  become  endowed,  like  the  old 
yogis,  with  an  extra  sense.  You  seem  to  hear, 
as  you  lie  and  listen,  the  ticking  of  the  Great 
Clock,  and  a  faint  echo  of  the  spheres.  Aye! 
Patanjali  was  right.  Those  who  listen  habitu- 
ally to  silence,  learn  to  hear  voices,  and  a 
music  far  sweeter  than  any  earthly  strain. 

And  I  looked  north,  towards  Bombay, 
hidden  away  on  the  far  horizon  in  the  haze 
and  glare.  And  I  said:  O  Prince  of  Wales, 
who,  of  all  that  cross  thy  path  in  India,  will 
either  know  or  dare  to  tell  thee  the  thing  that 
is  in  India's  heart,  as  she  sits  with  face  turned 

1  Deut.  xxxiii.  13.  Blessed  of  the  Lorde  is  his  land,  for  the 
sweeteness  of  heaven,  for  the  dewe,  and  for  the  depth  lying 
beneath,  And  for  the  sweete  increase  of  the  sunne,  and  for  the 
sweete  increase  of  the  moone,  And  for  the  sweetenesse  of  the 
top  of  the  ancient  mount aines,  and  for  the  sweetenesse  of 
the  olde  hilles. 


xii  Preface 

down  and  back,  so  utterly  lost  in  worship  of 
gods  that  the  world  has  all  forgotten  that  she 
cares  for  nothing  else?  Behold  me,  a  withered 
trunk,  how  I  have  suddenly  shot  out  with  foreign 
foliage!  7,  who  of  old  myself  produced  great  store 
of  fruit  and  leafy  beauty,  not  a  whit  inferior  to 
this.  But  let  a  man  choose  for  his  mistress  one 
who  will  understand  him  and  requite  him  even 
after  he  is  dead.1  My  heart  is  stifled.  I  want 
my  own  old  gods,  not  yours:  yours,  that  were 
only  the  child  of  mine.  Your  Protestant 
j  missionary  is  pure  impertinence.  Your  frigid 
melancholy  theism  is  a  mere  segment  of  my 
joyous  mystical  polytheism,  which  better 
reflects  the  many  facets  of  an  incomprehen- 
sible divinity.  And  Incarnation  is  not  your 
idea,  but  mine.  All  that  you  come  to  teach 
me,  I  knew,  better  than  even  Egypt  knew  it, 
long  before  you  ever  were.  For  I  also  am  a 
Holy  Land:  my  very  air  is  sacred;  yet  you 
send  conceited  cobblers  and  stupid  wife- 
embracing  parsons  to  teach  me  little  isolated 
fragments  of  my  own  old  mystic  lore.  As 

*  Antipater. 


Preface  xiii 

well  might  the  Welsh  hills  come  over  sea  to 
show  Kailks  or  Kanchanjunga  what  a  moun- 
tain really  is,  or  the  Sahara  Marusthali  deem 
itself  competent  to  teach  botany  to  Brazil. 
Do  men  carry  owls  to  Athens,  or  coals  to 
Newcastle?  What  art  was  to  the  Greek,  or 
policy  to  the  Roman,  or  business  is  to  London, 
that  religion  is  to  me.  And  if  indeed  religion 
is  only  nonsense,  as  your  wise  men  say,  then 
am  I  also  less  than  nothing.  But  if  not,  then 
learn,  once  for  all,  that  the  Ganges  is  more 
sacred  than  the  Thames,  and  that  all  the 
London  churches  contain  less  religion  than 
Benares,  where  calm-eyed  sages  sat  of  old 
by  the  purifying  water,  repeating:  One  is  the 
Deity,  but  ike  wise  call  him  by  many  names: 
when  Oxford  and  Cambridge  were  as  yet 
homes  only  for  the  bittern  and  the  snipe. 

And  then,  after  a  while,  I  rose  up  and  went 
away,  down  the  hill  and  over  the  plain.  And 
missing  my  true  path,  like  Dante,  I  wandered 
about  the  jungle,  many  a  mile  astray:  and 
now  it  was,  that  I  was  punished  for  my  pre- 


xiv  Preface 

sumption,  in  venturing,  though  in  indifferent 
health,  to  challenge  the  Sun  God  by  a  thirty 
mile  walk,  and  do  battle  with  him  all  day  long 
in  his  own  domain.  For  now  he  had  me  at 
advantage,  compelling  me,  whether  I  would 
or  no,  to  climb  back  into  the  haunts  of  men 
over  a  treeless,  shadeless  hill  on  which  he 
beat  with  all  his  force,  steep  as  the  wall  of  a 
house.  Twenty  times  I  lay  down,  all  but 
defeated,  with  a  broken  heart.  And  when 
at  last  I  reached  the  top,  I  found  my  way 
blocked,  as  if  by  his  command,  by  a  recent 
landslip,  across  whose  face  I  had  to  pass,  like 
a  fly  clinging  to  a  pillar,  about  a  thousand 
feet  high,  on  pain  of  going  back  to  the  bottom 
and  beginning  all  over  again.  Death  itself 
would  have  been  preferable. 

I  beat  my  enemy,  but  I  shall  never  forget 
the  climb.  Used  up,  wet  through,  and  trem- 
bling in  every  limb:  so  tired,  that  I  think,  had 
anyone  spoken  to  me,  I  should  have  burst 
into  tears,  with  a  shout  of  laughter,  I  reached 
my  own  verandah,  and  fell  into  a  chair.  The 
world  faded  out  of  my  mind :  I  sank,  not  into 


Preface  xv 

sleep,  but  a  kind  of  waking  swoon.  And  there 
as  I  lay,  time  slowly  wore  away,  and  little 
by  little,  the  day  died. 

And  all  at  once,  as  if  someone  had  suddenly 
touched  me,  I  came  to  myself.  The  sun  was 
gone:  the  day  was  dead.  Before  me,  still 
and  cold  and  black,  were  the  mighty  shoulders 
of  those  cruel  hills,  over  which  I  had  come. 
Above  them  stretched  the  floor  of  heaven, 
deep  violet  overhead,  pale,  clear,  transparent 
ochrous  grey  below,  with  here  and  there  a 
star.  All  round  me  was  the  chirp  of  crickets, 
the  chuckle  of  bed-going  birds,  dim  darkness, 
leafy  labyrinths:  out  of  the  shadow,  every  now 
and  then,  a  night- jar  rose,  on  noiseless  velvet 
wing,  hung  for  a  single  instant  fluttering 
against  the  sky,  and  vanished  like  a  ghost. 
The  smell  of  cooling,  breathing  earth,  the 
essence  of  the  dusk,  stole  like  a  breeze  into  my 
brain.  And  as  I  lay,  I  looked  and  saw,  pend- 
ent in  the  purple  air,  like  a  great  yellow 
Indian  topaz  lost  in  an  amethystine  void,  the 
digit  of  the  moon,  poised,  as  if  on  tiptoe,  on 
the  very  rim  of  the  brow  of  the  hill,  whose  sable 


xvi  Preface 

edge  it  seemed  to  touch, with  a  fringe  of  soft  and 
almost  imperceptible  iridescence,  with  magical 
contradiction,  making  the  dark  thing  fair. 

There  the  Great  God  stood,  before  me,  with 
his  Jewel  on  his  brow. 

And  as  I  gazed,  the  moon  stooped  towards 
me,  and  whispered  in  my  ear:  Lo!  I  am  the 
Star  of  Eve,  the  Diadem  of  Deity,  the  Planet 
of  the  Dusk,  a  holy  Incarnation  of  loveliness 
beyond  imagination.  And  thou,  bathed  in 
my  beauty,  drowned  in  my  silver  flood,  softer 
than  the  glance  cast  by  a  mother  on  a  fever- 
stricken  child,  wilt  thou  not  worship  and 
adore  me,  and  own  me  for  what  I  am,  a  deity 
indeed:  Mistress  of  Herbs  and  Medicine  of 
the  soul:  cool,  pale,  delicious,  midnight  Ma- 
donna, of  all  things  dark  and  beautiful  the 
darkest  and  the  sweetest,  and  yet  the  fairest 
of  the  fair?  Wilt  thou  not  bow  to  me,  as  all 
men  did  of  old,  and  as  still  do  the  peoples  of 
the  East,  who  set  me  as  a  moony  tire  in  the 
tawny  hair  of  the  God  of  Gods,  and  hail  me 
the  imperial  and  only  Jewel  on  the  brow  of 
this  great  dark  world  ?  Mystic  Swan ,  sphere  of 


Preface  xvii 

crystal,  camphor  chalice,  oozer  of  ambrosial 
ice,  silent  silver  boat  of  heaven,  by  many  names 
the  ancients  knew  me,  and  did  my  godhead 
homage,  calling  me  Artemis  or  lo,  Bendis, 
Diana,  Proserpine,  Astarte,  Atergatis  or  Isis, 
and  a  thousand  other  names,  emblems  all  and 
symbols  only  of  the  Power  which  as  Mother, 
Wife,  or  Daughter  draws,  not  drives,  leading 
the  whole  creation  willingly  around  its  mystic 
dance:  the  power  of  attraction  and  affection 
which  no  man  can  explain,  but  all  endeavour 
to  describe  by  the  epithet  of  Love  or  Beauty. 
Little  knew  that  Salvation  Army,  that  squalid 
and  semi-barbarous  population  of  the  Slums, 
which  overthrew  my  altars,  in  order  to  replace 
the  Cult  of  Cosmic  Energy  and  Universal 
Beauty  by  the  worship  of  their  own  sordid 
and  unlovely  selves,  that  under  my  polythe- 
istic symbolism,  buried  in  that  mythological 
idolatry  wherein  poetry  and  nature,  love,  re- 
ligion and  philosophy  were  all  mixed  up 
together,  lay  hidden  a  truth  more  essential 
and  profound  than  all  the  mechanical  dis- 
coveries of  Newton  and  Laplace.  Deduct  me 


xviii  Preface 

from  the  night:  deduct  that  of  which  I  am 
the  most  adequate  expression  from  the  world, 
and  what  were  left  but  a  worthless  caput 
mortuum,  an  icy  heap  of  darkness  insignificant 
and  motionless,  its  motive  power  gone?  For 
Beauty  is  more  essential  to  the  world  than 
mathematics  or  mechanics,  missionaries  or 
motor-cars,  or  even  bread  and  butter:  it  is 
the  metaphysical  quicksilver,  the  radical  and 
ultimate;  the  quintessential  force,  which  all 
the  while  itself  unmoved,  causes  and  initiates 
all  other  motion.  And  vainly  did  and  do  those 
brutal  iconoclasts  and  their  descendants  deny 
me  with  their  lips:  their  actions  and  their 
literature  give  the  lie  to  their  hypocrisy:  their 
very  poets  borrow  from  that  "paganism" 
which  they  disavow  all  the  beauty  they  con- 
tain. The  Cult  that  ousted  and  replaced  my 
own,  what  was  it  but  what  all  the  ancients 
thought  it,  nihilism  and  death?  the  death  of 
art,  philosophy  and  science,  the  family  and 
the  state:  of  all  of  which  I  am  the  Life,  for 
all  exist  through  me  alone;  and  all,  in  fact, 
returned  in  part,  renascent  after  death,  only 


Preface  xix 

when  my  altars  had  been  once  more  erected, 
but  under  another  name.  For  hypocrisy  is  the 
inevitable  doom  of  all  religion  that  denies  me, 
since  without  me  the  world  cannot  get  along. 
Yet  all  the  time  I  continued  and  continue, 
circling  in  my  cold  inaccessible  serenity  around 
my  unhappy  sister  Earth,  not  caring,  like  all 
true  deities,  whether  there  are  any  to  see  me 
and  to  worship  me,  or  not.  For  it  is  the 
devotee  who  needs  the  deity,  and  not  the 
deity  the  devotee.  No  true  devotion  asks 
for  a  return.  For  the  one,  it  is  sufficient  to 
exist:  Pure  Being  is  enough:  for  the  other 
is  the  passion  and  emotion,  the  imperfection, 
the  struggle,  ecstasy  or  despair.  Absent,  you 
wish  for  nothing  but  to  see  me:  present,  you 
burn  with  fierce  desire  to  embrace  me:  mixed 
with  my  soul,  you  understand  at  last,  that 
your  thirst  is  one  impossible  to  slake,  for 
by  the  very  nature  of  your  being,  you  are 
mocked.  For  Beauty,  as  my  own  old  Indian 
sages  understood,  is  as  a  Moon,  inaccessible, 1 
and  as  an  Ocean,  brine. 2  Those  who  strive  to 

*  Durgd.  2  Idwanya. 


xx  Preface 

reach  me,  fail :  those  who  drink  me,  maddened 
by  the  thirst  for  me,  drink,  not  my  beauty, 
which  is  Maya,  but  its  bitterness  and  salt.  .  .  . 

And  all  at  once,  I  felt  something  slip  upon 
my  knee.  Two  arms  went  round  my  neck, 
and  a  soft  cheek  was  laid  against  my  own.  It 
was  only  my  own  little  girl.  And  I  said  to 
her:  Maya,  do  you  know  what  the  moon  has 
been  telling  me  about  you?  She  says  that 
you  are  a  little  idol,  and  a  great  humbug, 
and  that  you  taste  nasty  and  salt. 

The  child  turned  her  face  sharply  round, 
without  lifting  it  from  mine,  to  see  the  moon, 
filling  my  eyes  with  her  hair.  So  she  lay, 
caressing  my  ear  with  her  fairy  fingers,  symp- 
tom of  profound  meditation.  And  then  she 
said:  I  do  taste  salt,  when  I  have  been  crying. 
But  how  did  the  moon  know  ?  And  why  have 
I  got  salt  water  in  me?  Is  it  because  I 
swallowed  so  much,  when  we  bathed  in  the 
sea? 

And  I  said :  No,  you  did  n't  swallow  enough, 
then.  But  long  ago,  once  upon  a  time, 


Preface  xxi 

you    were  a  water  baby,   and    so  was   the 
moon. 

And  I  glanced,  through  the  unceremonious 
hair,  at  Her  Serene  Highness;  and  I  said  softly: 
Mystic  Lady,  I  know  not  which  to  call  the 
true  lunatics,  the  ancients  who  worshipped 
you,  or  the  moderns,  who  do  not.  But  you 
may  count  me,  if  you  like,  a  believer  and  a 
worshipper,  for  the  sake  of  this  new  young 
Isis  or  Aphrodite,  this  little  Daughter  of  the 
Brine,  upon  my  heart. 


CONTENTS 


PACK 


I.     SPIRITS  OF  THE  SNOW       ....       3 

II.     THE  KING'S  AMOUR 1 1 

III.    A  MIME  OF  DEITY    .....   103 


xxiii 


Spirits  of  the  Snow 


Spirits  of  the  Snow 


INVOCATION 

A  Bow  to  the  Flash  of  that  Great  Third  Eye, 
which  burned  up  the  body  of  luckless  Love,  and 
doomed  him,  yearning  for  re-existence,  to  an 
endless  chain  of  incarnations,  as  he  springs 
again  and  again  to  life  in  the  heart  of  youth  or 
maid,  suddenly  catching  sacred  fire  at  the  sight 
of  the  other  sex. 

THERE  is,  in  the  northern  quarter,  a  pinnacle 
of  milk-white  snow,  that  shoots  up  into  the 
eye  of  heaven  like  a  sudden  spout  of  leaping 
laughter, 1  saying  as  it  were  to  the  fleecy  clouds 
that  lazily  float  around  it:  Haha!  my  rivals, 

» Laughter,  in  Sanskrit  poetry,  is  supposed  to  be  coloured 
white. 

3 


4  Spirits  of  the  Snow 

match  my  colour  if  you  can.  And  near  it, 
far  below,  lies  a  blue  and  silent  lake,  like  a 
liquid  lump  of  lapis-lazuli,  whose  swans,  as 
they  swim  upon  it,  seem  like  pieces  of  the 
mountain  mirrored  in  it,  that  have  broken 
themselves  off,  and  risen  to  the  surface,  to 
feed  upon  the  tender  stalks  of  the  hosts  of 
golden  lotus-flowers  that  stud  it  like  the  stars 
of  heaven,  facing  them  right  above.1  And 
there,  long  ago,  the  Great  God  brought  his  new 
young  bride,  soon  after  they  were  married.2  i 
So  then,  as  that  Lord  of  Creatures  sported 
with  the  Daughter  of  the  Mountain  on  the  apex 
of  that  holy  hill,  it  so  fell  out,  by  the  decree 
of  destiny,  that  they  had  a  lovers'  quarrel. 
For  Maheshwara  said  to  himself:  What  is 
sweeter  than  a  lovers'  quarrel?  And  what 
is  the  use  of  being  a  god,  without  superiority? 

1  Lake  Mdnasa,  like  Mount  Kailas,  is  in  old  Hindoo  poetry 
always  treated  mythically.    The  curious  can  find,  in  the  works 
of  some  modern  travellers,  prosaic  accounts  of  the  reality. 
But  we  should  never  visit  holy  places,  if  we  wish  to  retain 
our  faith. 

2  Those  who  wish  for  details  as  to  this  marriage  in  high  life 
can  find  them  in  that  heavenly  court  circular,  the  Kumdra 
Sambhava  of  Kalidas;  or  go  to  Elephanta,  with  the  book  of 
Burgess  in  their'  hand. 


Spirits  of  the  Snow  5 

Or  shall  it  be  supposed,  that  mortals  have 
any  sources  of  sweetness  denied  to  us,  their 
gods?  Rather  let  us  two  lovers  have  a 
quarrel,  sweeter  than  all  the  others  exactly 
in  proportion  to  our  vast  superiority:  and,  as 
it  were,  a  type  and  model  of  all  others,  and 
yet  containing  a  touch  of  ecstasy  beyond 
them  all. 

So,  therefore,  as  he  suddenly  stooped 
towards  his  wife,  as  if  to  kiss  her,  that  crafty 
god  allowed  Ganga,1  as  if  by  accident,  to 
peep  out  of  his  hair.  And  the  Daughter  of  the 
Snowy  Mountain  saw  her.  And  instantly, 
she  bounded  to  her  feet,  and  stood,  turning 
from  pale  to  red,  and  red  to  pale,  and  swelling 
with  indignation,  like  a  snake  about  to  strike: 
looking,  all  the  while,  not  at  the  god,  but 
Ganga,  and  drawing  herself,  very  slowly,  up 
and  back,  till  her  two  great  rounded  breasts 
seemed  on  the  very  point  of  parting  in  indig- 
nation from  her  body.  And  all  at  once,  she 
cast  upon  the  god  a  single  glance  of  scorn 

» The  river  Ganges  is  fabled  to  have  fallen  from  heaven 
and  lost  its  way  in  the  wilderness  of  the  Great  God's  hair. 


6  Spirits  of  the  Snow 

and  grief.  And  she  left  her  place  on  Kailas, 
and  plunged,  with  a  single  swoop,  like  a  falling 
star,  down  to  the  very  margin  of  lake  Manasa, 
far,  far  away  below;  leaving  that  Moon- 
crested  One  all  alone  on  the  brow  of  the  hill. 

And  then,  the  Lord  of  creatures  animate 
and  inanimate  smiled  softly  to  himself.  And 
he  said:  Not  without  reason  is  my  beloved 
called  Chandi l  in  the  world  below.  For  the 
passion  of  her  jealousy  is,  as  it  were,  an  index 
to  the  intensity  of  her  love,  and  only  its  other 
side:  and  she  resembles  a  flame,  not  only  in 
its  colour2  but  its  heat.  And  so  far,  then, 
my  little  plot  has  succeeded,  even  beyond  my 
expectation,  and  now  the  quarrel  I  desired  is 
skilfully  set  agoing. 

And  he  looked  away  down  to  Manasa,  aid- 
ing the  flight  of  his  glance  by  the  power  of 
his  mystical  meditation.3  And  after  a  while, 
he  said:  Yonder  she  sits,  grieving^  like  a 
female  chakrawdka,  in  the  absence  of  her  mate, 

» Vixen. 

sGauri,  a  common  name  of  Parwati,  means  "pale  red." 
3  "The  collyrium  of  Yoga":  as  if  the  magic  was  a  sort  of 
pomatum  applied  to  the  eye. 


Spirits  of  the  Snow  7 

on  the  very  edge  of  the  pool.  And  see,  as  she 
curves  her  slight  and  delicate  figure  in  dejec- 
tion, how  exactly  she  resembles,  at  this  dis- 
tance, my  digit  of  the  moon,  hanging  low  upon 
the  sea,  and  reproduced,  as  she  is,  on  the 
surface  of  the  mere.  Ha!  did  she  only  know 
it,  she  has  very  small  reason  to  be  jealous  of 
anyone  whomsoever.  So  ignorant  is  perfect 
beauty  of  its  own  irresistible  fascination.  And 
he  looked  at  her  a  while,  with  affection  and 
delight.  And  after  a  while,  he  said:  Come, 
now,  let  me  carry  out  the  remainder  of  my 
scheme.  For  it  is  not  with  me  as  with  these 
poor  mortals,  who  can  only  be  in  one  place 
at  a  time.  Now,  then,  I  will  be  present  with 
my  angry  beauty  even  in  my  absence,  and 
under  other  forms,  enjoy  and  feast  at  leisure 
and  variety  on  the  sweetness  of  her  love-lorn 
sadness,  and  sip,  like  a  bee,  the  nectar  of  my 
lotus,  without  her  knowledge,  and  even  against 
her  will.  So  shall  she,  in  her  own  despite, 
caress  me  unaware. 

And  instantly,  that  Master  Yogi  became 
invisible.     And  at  that  very  moment,  a  wild 


8  Spirits  of  the  Snow 

swan  shot  down  from  Kailks,  towards  the 
lake  beneath:  leaving  that  snowy  peak  with 
no  companion  but  its  own  long  dark  blue 
shadow  on  the  snow. 


II 
The  King's  Amour 


The  King's  Amour 


BUT  in  the  meanwhile,  that  mountain-snow- 
begotten  lady  sat  melancholy  by  the  lonely 
pool.  And  she  sat  on  a  slab  of  dark  blue  rock, 
that  jutted  over  the  water,  bending  a  lit- 
tle backwards,  leaning  on  her  straight  right 
arm,  with  the  other  laid  upon  her  lap,  and 
her  two  small  feet  crossed  together,  hanging 
over  the  lake,  which  lay  absolutely  still,  as  if 
it  feared  to  lose,  by  untoward  agitation,  the 
images  so  beautifully  painted  on  its  glass.  So 
as  she  drooped,  with  head  a  little  on  one  side, 
and  eyes  fixed  upon  the  water,  a  great  bright 
tear  stole  slowly  from  under  her  long  lashes, 
and  hung  for  an  instant  on  her  cheek,  before 
it  fell  into  the  pool. 

And  at  that  very  moment,  she  heard,  high 


1 2  The  King's  Amour 

up  above  her  head,  the  scream  of  a  wild 
swan.  And  she  looked  up,  and  saw  him,  as 
he  shot  like  an  arrow  down  into  the  water, 
and  ran  along  its  surface,  throwing  up,  like 
a  silver  plough,  a  crystal  spray,  till  at  length 
he  remained  quiet  on  the  bosom  of  the  lake. 

Then  she  called  to  the  swan  in  his  own 
language:  O  royal  swan,  come  to  me,  and  tell 
me  the  story  of  thy  long  journey.  Whence 
hast  thou  come,  and  whither  art  thou  bound  ? 
And  hearing  himself  called,  that  noble  swan 
came  paddling  rapidly  towards  her,  with 
mighty  strokes  of  his  eager  feet,  that  almost 
lifted  him  out  of  the  water.  And  P^rwati 
looked  at  him,  with  delight  and  admiration, 
mixed  with  sadness.  And  she  said:  Beauti- 
ful bird,  how  happy  thou  must  be,  oaring 
thy  silver  body  like  a  boat  through  these  cool 
waves,  after  thy  long  fatigue.  Tell  me  thy 
story,  and  all  that  thou  hast  seen. 

Then  said  the  swan:  O  lady,  I  have  come 
from  a  far-off  region,  in  the  quarter  of  the 
South.  And  I  travelled,  never  resting,  over 
cities  full  of  men,  and  over  seas  and  deserts, 


The  King's  Amour  13 

that  none  pass  over,  save  only  the  clouds, 
my  fellows,  and  myself.  And  over  moonlit 
mountains,  where  crystal  fountains  fall,  plung- 
ing with  deep  murmur  into  gorges  among  the 
tops  of  trees:  and  over  vast  and  sunny  mead- 
ows, where  multitudes  of  poppies  and  of 
lilies  waved  gently  in  the  wind:  yet  never 
saw  I  anything  so  beautiful  as  this  delicious 
pool,  with  thee  upon  its  edge.  Art  thou  a 
goddess,  or  one  of  the  Widyddharis,  or  who? 
Then  said  Pdrwati:  O  swan,  I  am  the  daughter 
of  this  snowy  mountain,  and  my  husband 
is  the  god  that  wears  the  moon  in  his  hair. 

And  then,  the  swan  rose  erect  in  the  water, 
and  flapped  his  great  white  wings.  And  he 
exclaimed:  Ha!  Gauri,1  by  thy  favour  I  have 
wakened  from  a  dream.  And  recollection  of 
my  former  birth  has  suddenly  rushed  into 
my  soul,  like  a  ray  of  light  into  the  midst  of 
utter  darkness.  And  now  I  see,  that  antici- 
pation of  a  future  yet  unknown  may  lurk  in 
the  living  soul,  like  seed  in  soil,  and  grow  up 
to  maturity  only  in  another  life,  when  that 

1  Pronounce  the  first  syllable  to  rhyme  with  caw. 


14  The  King's  Amour 

one  is  extinct.  For  in  my  former  birth,  which 
has  suddenly  come  back  to  me,  know,  that  I 
was  haunted  by  a  picture  of  this  pool,  and, 
as  I  think,  of  thee,  seated  thus  beside  it,  with 
thy  snowy  arms  and  great  blue  startled  eyes: 
for  how  could  there  be  two  of  thee?  And 
seized  with  madness,  I  roamed  about  to  find 
thee,  and  this  was  the  ruin  of  myself,  and  of 
my  family,  and  worst  of  all,  also  of  my  wife. 
But  this  also  was  the  consequence  of  the 
actions  of  a  former  birth.  Listen,  and  I  will 
tell  thee  the  story  of  myself. 


II 

AND  even  as  he  spoke,  suddenly  there  came 
a  great  black  bee,  which  flew  booming  and 
grumbling  round  and  round  about  the  pool. 
And  Pdrwati  said  to  the  swan:  Wait.  And 
she  called  to  the  bee,  which  came  at  once,  and 
settled  on  her  hand.  And  he  said:  O  Gauri, 
for  thou  art  surely  she,  I  am  very  cold.  For 
a  strong  wind  caught  me,  as  I  was  busy 
gathering  honey  on  the  hill,  and  blew  me  like 
a  leaf  high  up  into  the  air,  till  I  lost  my  way 
among  the  icy  clouds;  and  now  I  have  arrived 
to  die,  frozen,  by  this  cold  pool.  Then  said 
the  goddess:  Nay,  dear  bee,  it  is  not  so.  For 
I  myself  will  warm  thee,  and  when  thou  art 
recovered,  I  will  show  thee  thy  way  to  the 
warmer  world  below.  And  she  took  the  bee, 
and  put  him  in  her  bosom,  saying:  Sit  thou 
there  awhile,  and  listen  in  the  meantime  to 
the  story  of  this  royal  swan. 

So  as  she  spoke,  something  touched  her 
15 


1 6  The  King's  Amour 

from  above  upon  the  hair.  And  she  looked  up 
quickly,  and  lo!  there  was  a  snake,  hanging 
from  the  dead  branch  of  a  withered  tree  just 
over  her  head.  And  the  snake  said:  O  Gauri, 
let  me  also  listen  to  the  story  of  the  swan. 
For  I  also  am  cold,  not,  like  this  bee,  with 
icy  air,  but  fear.  For  Garud1  saw  me,  as  I 
crept  through  the  jungle  on  the  bank  of 
Gangd,  and  he  pounced  upon  me,  and  took 
me  in  his  beak,  intending  to  devour  me  at 
his  leisure,  and  soared  into  the  sky.  And  as 
luck  would  have  it,  as  he  drew  near  to  the 
sun,  he  met  his  elder  brother,2  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  him.  And  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  he  utterly  forgot  me, 
and  let  me  go,  and  I  dropped  from  his  mouth 
and  fell  into  this  tree.  And  now  I  take  refuge 
with  thee.  So  the  goddess  put  up  her  arm: 
and  that  snake  let  himself  down,  winding 
about  her  arm,  till  he  reached  her  neck,  and 
lay,  circled  about  it  like  a  necklace.  And 
Pdrwati  said:  Lie  thou  there,  and  become 

» This  Hindoo  roc,  the  king  of  birds,  is,  or  was,  a  deadly 
enemy  of  all  snakes,  on  which  he  feeds. 
2  Aruna,  the  sun's  charioteer. 


The  King's  Amour  17 

warm,  and  listen  to  the  story  of  the  swan: 
yet  beware,  and  do  no  injury  to  the 
bee  that  is  reposing  in  my  bosom,  lest 
I  curse  thee,  or  send  for  Garud  to  devour 
thee. 

So  as  she  spoke,  there  came  a  bear,  to 
drink  at  the  pool.  And  as  he  drew  near,  he 
looked,  and  saw  Pdrwati  and  her  companions. 
And  he  bowed  before  her.  Then  said  the 
goddess:  Bear,  drink  very  quickly,  and  begone: 
for  this  swan  is  on  the  very  point  of  telling 
me  a  story,  and  the  noise  of  thy  lapping  will 
disturb  us.  Then  said  the  bear:  O  Mother,1 
who  wishes  for  water,  when  he  can  drench 
himself  in  the  nectar  of  thy  favour?  Let 
me  sit  at  thy  feet,  and  be  a  footstool  to  thee, 
while  the  swan  speaks,  so  that  I  also  may 
listen.  And  he  lay  down  at  her  feet,  and 
P&rwati  put  her  foot  upon  him,  and  the  bear 
licked  it  with  his  tongue. 

And  then  the  goddess  said:  Now  then,  O 
swan,  begin.  So  the  swan  came,  and  sat 
upon  the  water  close  beside  her,  and  spoke, 

»  Amba,  a  name  of  Gaurf. 


1 8  The  King's  Amour 

while  she  stroked  his  neck  with  one  hand, 
making  with  the  other  a  cover  for  the  bee, 
with  her  foot  upon  the  bear,  and  wearing  the 
snake  like  a  collar  on  her  neck. 


Ill 

AND  the  swan  said:  O  Gauri,  know,  that 
in  my  former  birth,  I  was  the  son  of  a  king. 
And  yet,  well  it  would  have  been,  had  I  been 
the  son  rather  of  the  meanest  fisherman; 
for  then,  it  may  be,  I  should  not  have  sunk 
into  this  body  of  a  swan.  For  kings  resemble 
elephants,  that  go  mad  in  the  pride  of  their 
strength,  and  breaking  loose  from  all  restraint, 
commit  appalling  crimes,  impossible  of  per- 
formance for  creatures  of  a  lower  order. 
For  my  father  had  a  queen  for  his  wife,  whom 
he  loved  to  infatuation,  so  that  whatever  she 
might  wish  for,  even  in  her  sleep,  he  would 
use  all  his  efforts  to  procure.  Therefore 
she  became  like  a  spoiled  child,  and  ran, 
as  it  were,  riot  in  the  garden  of  her  wishes; 
and  she  went  to  the  farther  shore  of  the  ocean 
of  caprice  and  whim,  asking  for  everything 
in  the  three  worlds,  and  getting  it  at  once. 
And  at  last,  even  to  wait  a  very  little  while 

19 


20  The  King's  Amour 

for  no  matter  what  it  was  became  utterly 
intolerable  to  her.  And  little  did  my  father 
think  that  he  was  with  his  own  hand  rooting 
up  his  race,  and  sowing  the  seed  of  its  destruc- 
tion, by  feeding  her  desires  till  they  turned 
to  poison  and  produced  at  last  an  inexpiable 
crime.  Ha!  very  wonderful  is  the  blindness 
of  lovers,  ruining  all  by  the  very  excess  of 
their  immoderate  affection. 

So  then,  after  a  while,  the  time  came  when 
I  was  on  the  very  point  of  being  born.  And 
then  it  was  that,  prompted  no  doubt  by  the 
influences  of  former  crimes,  and  instigated 
by  my  father's  fatal  indulgence,  the  Queen 
my  mother  conceived  an  impious  desire. 
And  she  said  to  my  father:  O  son  of  a  noble 
sire,  I  am  seized  with  a  frantic  longing  to 
bathe  in  a  bath  of  human  blood. 1  Cause  it, 
therefore,  quickly  to  be  prepared.  Then  even 
my  father  was  struck  with  horror.  And  he 
exclaimed:  Fie!  fie!  Out  on  such  a  hideous 
desire!  And  instantly  my  mother  fell  into  a 

» In  the  Kathd  Sarit-Sdgara,  there  is  a  queen  with  a  similar 
desire :  the  king  eludes  it  by  a  deception. 


The  King's  Amour  21 

passion  of  tears.  And  she  said:  I  will  posi- 
tively have  my  bath.  Know,  that  it  is  either 
that,  or  thou  art  guilty  of  my  death,  and  that 
of  thy  son,  now  actually  knocking  at  the 
door  of  life.  Answer  it  to  thy  ancestors.  Then 
my  father  went  away  in  great  perplexity.  And 
he  said  to  himself:  Either  way  I  shall  be 
guilty  of  destroying  life:  and  now,  then, 
which  guilt  is  the  lesser?  For  I  do  not  doubt, 
that  if  she  does  not  get  her  way,  she  will 
destroy  both  herself  and  the  child.  Therefore, 
after  a  while,  he  determined  that  the  least 
evil  would  be  to  comply  with  her  desire; 
blinded  by  the  threefold  mist  of  his  evil 
destiny,  his  love  for  her,  and  his  own  long- 
ing for  a  son. 

So  he  sent  for  his  chief  huntsman,  and  his 
commander-in-chief.  And  when  they  came, 
he  said  to  them:  Go  out  now  into  the  forest, 
and  catch  me,  very  quickly,  a  hundred  Bhils, 
or  Shabaras,  and  bring  them  back  alive.  And 
if  you  do  not  return  within  the  setting  of 
another  sun,  your  own  heads  will  be  the 
penalty. 


22  The  King's  Amour 

So  those  two  officers  went  out,  hunting  that 
very  strange  game;  and  the  next  day  they 
returned,  joyfully,  bringing  with  them  a 
century  of  very  miserable  Bhils.  And  then 
the  King  sent  for  his  executioner.  And  he 
caused  all  those  unhappy  captives  to  be 
slaughtered,  then  and  there,  giving  out  that 
they  were  guilty  of  crimes,  though  he  was 
himself  the  criminal.  And  with  their  blood 
he  filled  to  the  brim  a  marble  tank.  And 
then  he  sent  to  the  Queen,  and  said:  Make 
haste,  and  come,  for  now  thy  bath  is  ready. 

And  the  Queen,  excited  and  overjoyed  by 
reason  of  the  gratification  of  her  desire, 
made  great  haste,  and  hurried  to  that  unholy 
tank.  But  no  sooner  had  she  set  eyes  on  it 
than  she  was  seized  with  such  a  horror, 
that  every  hair  upon  her  body  suddenly 
stood  erect.  And  she  stood  there,  for  a 
single  instant,  trembling  all  over,  like  a 
bamboo  shivering  in  an  icy  breeze,  rooted, 
as  it  were,  to  the  ground.  And  all  at  once, 
she  turned  away,  as  if  to  flee:  and  she  uttered 
a  terrible  shriek,  and  fell  to  earth  in  a  swoon. 


The  King's  Amour  23 

And  at  that  very  moment,  I  was  born. 

(Ha!  Gauri,  art  thou  attentive?  And  the  god- 
dess answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I  listen. 
And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with  the  lotus 
of  her  hand.) 


IV 

So  then,  as  soon  as  I  came  into  the  world, 
the  King  my  father  went  wild  with  joy, 
and  all  his  kingdom  with  him.  And  I  grew 
up  with  the  eyes  of  my  father  and  mother 
fastened  as  it  were  upon  me,  for  I  was  their 
only  child.  And  they  looked  upon  me  as 
the  fruit  of  their  birth,  feasting  on  me  with 
insatiable  delight,  so  much  so,  that  they 
clean  forgot  the  evil  deed  that  had  heralded 
my  coming,  putting  it  away  like  something 
ended,  and  altogether  past  and  gone;  not 
knowing,  O  daughter  of  Himalaya,  that  actions 
are  the  tree,  and  good  or  evil  fortune  the 
inevitable  fruit,  which  no  oblivion  can  cheat, 
nor  stratagem  avert.  But  in  the  meantime, 
while  the  nemesis  of  their  crime  was  slowly 
ripening  in  the  darkness,"  I  lived,  the  focus 
of  all  their  attention:  and  the  world  was 
ransacked,  to  adorn  me,  and  my  mother 
made  me  the  very  centre  of  all  her  wishes, 

24 


The  King's  Amour  25 

and  my  parents  passed  their  time  like  child- 
ren of  whom  I  was  the  toy. 

So  then,  one  day,  as  they  sat  together, 
rejoicing  in  me  as  I  played  before  them,  a 
child  of  seven  years,  there  came  in  all  at  once 
a  chamberlain.  And  he  said:  O  Mahdraj, 
there  stands  without,  at  the  palace  gate,  an 
old  Bhikshu,1  a  very  incarnation  of  the  even- 
ing of  life;  and  he  sent  me  to  thee,  saying: 
Go  quickly,  and  bid  the  King  come  out  to  me 
at  once,  and  bring  his  child  with  him.  And 
I  pray  the  King  to  show  mercy.2  And  hear- 
ing this,  my  father  was  very  angry.  And  he 
exclaimed:  What!  am  I  become  the  slave 
of  an  old  mendicant?  Go,  and  tell  him  to  be 
off,  rejoicing  that  his  age  protects  him.  But 
my  mother  said:  Nay,  be  not  hasty:  do 
nothing  rashly:  for  who  knows?  For  what 
old  mendicant  would  dare  to  send  the  King 
such  a  message,  unless  he  was  something 
more?  For  often  it  has  come  about  that  deities 
have  come  disguised  to  the  doors  of  kings. 


A  holy  beggar,  generally  a  Buddhist. 

To  himself,  that  is,  for  bringing  such  a  peremptory  order. 


26  The  King's  Amour 

Moreover,  if  he  should  be  irritated,  he  might 
possibly  curse  the  child:  whereas,  as  it  is, 
doubtless  he  has  come  to  bless  him.  So 
what  harm  is  there  in  this?  Do  thou  rather 
be  advised  by  me,  and  take  the  child,  and  go 
and  see  this  old  Bhikshu,  as  he  wishes.  For 
the  power  of  asceticism  is  more  than  even 
that  of  kings. 

So  my  father,  persuaded  by  her,  here  as 
always,  took  me  up  in  his  arms.  And  together 
we  went  out,  not  knowing  that  we  had  looked 
upon  her  for  the  last  time.  And  when  we 
went  down,  and  reached  the  palace  gate,  lo! 
there  stood  an  old  beggar,  in  a  yellow  gar- 
ment, with  a  head  as  bare  as  a  copper  pot, 
and  a  face  like  the  skin  of  a  withered  mango, 
and  eyes  like  a  steady  flame.  And  as  soon 
as  we  stood  before  him,  that  old  mendicant 
said  slowly:  O  King,  how  is  this?  Thy 
child  is  covered  with  blood.  And  I  shrank 
from  that  strange  old  man,  not  knowing  what 
he  meant;  for  then  I  had  not  heard,  as  after- 
wards I  learned  too  well,  the  story  of  my 
birth.  And  I  looked  at  my  father  as  I  clung  to 


The  King's  Amour  27 

him,  and  lo!  he  also  was  abashed,  and  he 
also  seemed  to  me  to  shrink.  Then  said  the 
old  mendicant:  O  King,  good  shall  come 
only  to  him  that  doeth  good ;  but  evil  follows 
evil,  as  thy  shadow  follows  thee.  And  now, 
this  child  lives,  and  yet  shall  live,  in  the 
shadow  of  a  crime  that  stained  him  at  his 
birth  with  blood:  but  as  for  the  criminals, 
their  punishment  is  close  at  hand.  As  they 
dipped  their  souls  in  guilt  by  hankering  after 
things  forbidden,  so  shall  he,  by  hereditary 
transmission,1  long  for  what  shall  steal  away 
his  memory  and  his  reason,  and  make  him, 
whether  he  will  or  no,  the  destruction  of  his 
family,  till  he  fall  into  a  lower  birth.  Aye! 
thou  who  wouldst  fain  forget,  didst  thou 
imagine  thou  couldst  escape  the  ripening 
of  the  fruit  of  the  creeper  of  crime? 

And  then,  that  ill-boding  old  mendicant 
turned,  and  went  slowly  along  the  road,  until 
he  disappeared.  But  my  father  stood  silent, 

>  This  is  one  of  those  points  at  which  the  old  Indian  theory 
of  metempsychosis  fits  exactly  in  with  modern  scientific 
ideas :  a  coincidence  so  much  admired  by  Schopenhauer,  who 
must  have  been  a  Hindoo  sage  in  a  former  birth. 


28  The  King's  Amour 

like  a  picture  painted  on  a  wall,  gazing  after 
him  as  he  went,  while  I  clung  to  him  in 
terror.  And  so  as  we  stood  together,  suddenly 
there  arose  a  hubbub,  and  a  cry,  and  wailing 
in  the  palace  behind  us.  And  all  at  once,  all 
the  servants  ran  out  in  a  crowd  together,  and 
stood  around  us,  exclaiming:  Alas!  the 
Queen!  alas!  the  Queen!  Then  said  my 
father:  What  is  the  matter?  And  as  he 
spoke,  I  felt  his  grasp  tighten,  as  he  held  my 
shoulder,  till  I  almost  screamed  with  pain. 
And  a  female  doorkeeper  stood  forward, 
and  said:  O  Mahdraj,  the  Queen  has  fallen 
from  a  high  window,  and  broken  herself  to 
pieces  on  the  ground  below.  For  in  her 
curiosity  to  see  for  herself,  from  the  women's 
apartments,  what  you  were  doing  with  the  old 
mendicant,  she  leaned  out  till  she  lost  her 
balance,  and  tumbled  down,  and  now  she  is 
dead. 

So  when  my  father  heard  this,  he  let  me  go, 
and  stood  a  long  while,  without  speaking; 
and  his  head  hung  down  upon  his  breast.  And 
at  the  last,  he  said  aloud,  very  slowly,  speaking 


The  King's  Amour  29 

to  himself:  I  was  the  guilty  culprit,  and  yet 
now,  she  has  suffered,  and  I  am  the  mur- 
derer of  my  own  wife.  And  she  would  have 
followed  me:  therefore  now,  I  must  follow 
her.  Or  shall  it  be  said,  in  my  dominions, 
that  all  who  murdered  their  wives  were 
punished  with  death,  except  the  King?  And 
he  took  his  dagger  out  of  his  belt.  And  he 
exclaimed:  Lo!  ye  of  my  household:  ye  are 
all  my  witnesses,  that  I  leave  this  son  of  mine 
as  a  deposit  in  the  hands  of  my  brother.  And 
he  put  the  knife  to  his  throat,  and  ran  it 
through  with  a  firm  hand,  till  the  point  stood 
out  behind,  and  then  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
lay  in  a  pool  of  his  own  blood. 

So  I  became  an  orphan,  and  that  terrible 
old  mendicant,  a  speaker  of  the  truth. 

(Ha!  Girijd,1  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  neck  with  the  lotus 
of  her  hand.) 

*  I.e.  "born  of  the  mountain" — an  epithet  of  Pdrwati. 


THEN  they  sent  hastily  for  my  uncle, 
bidding  him  come  and  take  charge  of  the 
kingdom  and  of  me.  And  when  he  arrived, 
he  burned  with  all  the  customary  rites  the 
bodies  of  my  two  parents;  and  he  sent  mes- 
sengers in  all  directions  to  discover  the  old 
mendicant  whose  words  had  been  the  im- 
mediate occasion1  of  their  death:  but  never 
found  so  much  as  his  shadow.  And  there- 
after he  remained,  preserving  me  as  a  deposit 
committed  to  the  hands  of  a  faithful  guardian, 
and  administering  for  me  the  affairs  of  my 
widowed  kingdom,  till  I  should  become  of  age 
to  bear  the  weight  of  it  myself.  And  I,  in  the 
meanwhile,  grew  gradually  up  to  manhood, 
and  in  course  of  time  I  learned  from  others 
the  story  of  my  parents'  crime.  For  their 
death  had  made  it  a  byword  and  a  wonder 

» Nimitta:  a  word  which  combines  the  senses  of  causing 
and  prognosticating. 


The  King's  Amour  31 

in  the  world.  And  the  meeting  with  the  old 
mendicant  remained  fixed  like  an  indelible 
picture  stamped  upon  my  mind,  hanging 
before  my  eyes  constantly  like  a  curtain, 
concealing  what  I  burned  to  know,  until 
I  found  it  out.  And  I  became  myself  an 
object  of  extreme  curiosity  to  all,  and  the 
people  looked  upon  me  with  anxiety,  mixed 
with  admiration,  knowing  my  story,  and 
wondering  what  would  happen  next.  For 
I  was  the  very  image  of  my  father,  who  was 
the  handsomest  man  in  all  his  dominions; 
and  yet  the  Creator,  when  he  reproduced  in 
my  instance  my  father's  body,  had  placed 
within  it  my  mother's  soul.  For  I  was  haunted 
by  strange  desires,  and  tenanted,  as  it  were, 
by  the  demon  of  a  burning  thirst  for  some- 
thing I  knew  not  what ;  and  I  resembled  an 
incarnation  of  excessive  longing,  passionately 
striving  and  straining  in  the  darkness  towards 
an  object  that  it  cannot  see.  And  never 
being  able  to  attain  to  my  desire,  or  even 
comprehend  it  and  discover  what  it  was  that 
I  desired,  I  became  the  prey  of  melancholy, 


32  The  King's  Amour 

and  I  shrank  from  the  society  of  men,  nursing 
and  feeding  my  blind  appetite  in  secret,  and 
above  all  fearful,  lest  any  other  person  should 
discover  what  I  did  not  even  know  myself. 
And  I  loved  to  wander,  utterly  alone,  in  the 
forest,  or  to  ramble  in  the  hills,  giving  out 
that  I  was  hunting,  as  indeed  I  was,  after 
a  fashion  of  my  own.  And  dismissing  my 
attendants,  I  used  to  roam,  by  night  and 
day,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  wind  as  it 
played  in  the  trees,  and  gazing  into  the 
distance,  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  I  knew  not 
why.  And  often  I  went  stealthily,  stealing  on 
tiptoe  among  the  trees,  and  passing  noise- 
lessly from  trunk  to  trunk,  as  if  I  feared  lest 
the  rustle  of  a  leaf  should  scare  away  the 
thing  I  sought,  though  what  it  was  I  could  not 
tell.  And  often  I  lay  still  for  hours,  striving  to 
guess  my  own  secret,  and  racking  my  imagi- 
nation for  an  answer  that  never  came.  So  I 
continued  to  live,  more  resembling  one  dream- 
ing than  a  waking  man,  suspended  continually 
between  despair  and  expectation,  and,  as  it 
were,  starting  at  every  noise,  and  constantly 


The  King's  Amour  33 

looking,  as  it  were,  behind  me,  as  if  my  secret 
were  my  own  shadow. 

And  in  the  meanwhile,  my  uncle,  steadfast 
in  his  duty,  and  anxious  for  the  family,  strove 
to  get  me  married;  but  in  vain.  For  all  the 
neighbouring  kings,  and  everybody  else,  knew 
my  story,  and  looked  upon  me  as  one  lying 
under  a  curse,  whose  family  was  doomed: 
and  there  was  not  one  of  them  who  would 
have  given  me  so  much  as  a  hair  of  his 
daughter's  head,  though  I  had  offered  him  my 
kingdom  in  exchange.  And  this  state  of 
affairs,  like  the  circle  produced  on  water  by 
the  dropping  of  a  stone,  spread  ever  wider 
and  wider:  till  not  only  in  my  own  domains, 
but  in  every  quarter  of  the  world,  no  man  even 
of  the  lowest  caste  but  would  have  deemed 
himself  dishonoured  by  the  very  suspicion 
that  he  was  willing  to  give  me  his  daughter 
as  a  wife.  So  the  door  of  marriage  seemed  to  be 
shut,  as  it  were,  in  my  face,  and  I  was  known 
through  the  world  as  the  Bachelor1  King. 

>  An  ironical  term  (brahmachdri) ,  as  though  to  say,  one  who 
does  not  wish  for  a  wife,  though,  in  fact,  he  could  not  get 
one. 


34  The  King's  Amour 

And  at  last,  my  uncle  gave  up  the  idea  of 
my  marriage  in  despair,  saying:  Thou  must 
find,  if  thou  canst,  something  to  marry  other 
than  a  woman:  for  the  women  will  not 
have  thee.  And  now,  unless  some  goddess 
or  demon  takes  pity  on  thee,  thou  art  cer- 
tainly doomed.  But  I  laughed  within  myself, 
caring  no  more  for  my  disaster  than  do  the 
forest  elephants  for  the  touch  of  the  creepers 
that  whip  them  as  they  push  through  the 
forest  heart.  And  I  said  to  my  uncle:  O 
uncle,  why  not  endeavour  to  buy  for  me  a 
wife,  if  all  other  methods  fail?  Or  dost  thou 
fear  to  find  that,  in  so  bad  a  market,  the  very 
merchants  will  not  sell? 

(Ha!  Durgd,1  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

i  The  "inaccessible"  one:  a  name  of  Parwati. 


VI 

So  then,  it  happened,  that  at  length  my 
uncle  went  himself,  after  my  parents,  along  the 
Great  Road:  and  I  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
wifeless  as  I  was.  And  my  uncle  said  to  me, 
upon  his  deathbed:  How  shall  I  meet  thy 
parents,  after  whom  I  am  going,  or  what 
shall  I  answer,  when  they  say  to  me:  Hast 
thou  married  our  son?  So  he  died,  grieving 
that  he  left  me  unmarried;  and  yet  he  was 
hardly  dead  before  my  wife  appeared,  as 
though  she  had  only  waited  to  appear,  until 
he  died :  or  as  if  he  had  himself  gone  to  fetch 
her  from  the  other  world. 

For  soon  after  he  was  gone,  it  happened, 
that  one  day  I  went  out  into  the  forest,  giving 
out  that  I  was  going  on  a  hunting  expedition. 
And  after  travelling  for  many  days,  suddenly 
I  seized  my  opportunity,  and  giving  all 
my  retinue  the  slip,  I  escaped,  and  plunged 
alone  into  the  thickest  of  the  wood.  And  I 

35    . 


36  The  King's  Amour 

wandered  about,  buried  in  my  dreams,  till 
suddenly  I  found,  exactly  in  front  of  me, 
a  wall.  And  I  examined  it,  mounting  a  tree 
that  grew  beside  it,  and  within  it  was  a 
hermitage.  So  I  climbed  like  a  thief  over 
the  wall,  and  entered  stealthily  its  holy 
precinct. 

And  there  I  found  myself  in  a  glade,  studded 
with  colossal  trees,  banyans  and  sacred  pipals, 
whose  ascending  and  descending  roots  and 
branches  wound  and  twisted  about  each 
other  with  affection,  like  limbs  of  human 
bodies,1  as  if  they  were  the  dwellings  of  the 
souls  of  former  saints  come  to  guard  that  holy 
shrine,  and  sanctify  the  sap  within  their  bark. 
And  all  round  them,  in  their  shade,  were 
browsing  innumerable  deer,  which  raised  their 
heads  to  look  at  me,  unstartled,  since  every 
form  of  fear  was  banished  from  that  secluded 
pale.  And  I  saw,  in  the  distance,  the  thin 
blue  lines  of  sacrificial  smoke  rising  from  their 


» What  a  pity  that  poor  Ovid  never  was  in  India!  He 
might  have  seen,  by  every  roadside,  his  metamorphoses  of 
women  into  trees  realised  before  his  eyes. 


The  King's  Amour  37 

fires,  like  prayers  visible  to  the  eye,  *  straight 
up  into  the  air,  as  though  to  say,  from  this 
exact  spot  is  the  shortest  way  to  heaven.  And 
near  me  was  a  smooth  black  pool,  strewn  with 
great  white  lotus  flowers,  beside  which,  on 
the  edge,  great  cranes  were  sitting  motionless 
in  rows,  like  meditating  munis;  and  a  little 
way  behind  them  were  other  rows  of  jars,  left 
there  beyond  a  doubt  by  the  daughters  of 
the  hermits  after  watering  their  flowers,  not 
more  motionless  than  the  birds.  And  seized 
with  rapture  at  the  contemplation  of  the 
stillness  and  quiet  of  that  hallowed  place  of 
refuge,  I  lay  down,  hidden  in  the  foliage,  to 
rest;  and  as  I  listened  to  the  water  dropping 
from  a  fountain  somewhere  concealed  among 
the  trees,  unawares  I  fell  asleep. 

And,  after  a  while,  the  sound  of  voices  woke 
me.  And  I  looked  up,  and  peered  through 
the  foliage  that  concealed  me,  and  saw,  a 

»  How  prayers  ascended  to  heaven,  was  a  question  which 
much  exercised  the  mind  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who  brought 
them  into  line  with  his  corpuscular  theory  of  light,  by  sup- 
posing them  to  ascend  in  a  sort  of  atomic  smoke.  He  would, 
no  doubt,  have  been  much  pleased  to  find  his  view  reflected 
in  old  Hindoo  poetry. 


38  The  King's  Amour 

little  way  off,  a  knot  of  young  women  coming 
rapidly  towards  me,  talking  as  they  came 
among  themselves,  and  laughing.  And  I  also 
laughed  to  myself,  and  lay  still,  saying  to 
myself:  Did  these  very  pretty  daughters  of 
the  hermits  only  know  who  it  was  so  close 
beside  them,  they  would  flee  like  yonder  deer 
before  a  wolf!  And  I  watched  them  with 
curiosity  as  they  came,  wondering  with  what 
object  they  were  coming:  for  they  moved 
quickly,  crowding  about  someone  in  the  midst 
of  them,  and  all  chattering  at  once.  So  then, 
one,  who  was  their  leader,  suddenly  exclaimed : 
Here  we  are,  and  this  is  the  image  of  the  god. 
And  I  looked,  and  saw,  seated  in  the  hollow 
of  an  old  banyan  tree,  a  vermilion  stained 
image  of  the  Elephant-faced  deity,1  close 
beside  me.  And  the  speaker  said  again: 
Now,  then,  let  us  all  return,  leaving  only 
Kuwalayini2  alone  with  the  god.  Perhaps 
he  will  reveal  some  cure  for  her  disease. 
Then  said  another:  Let  her  pray  for  a  hus- 

*  The  god  of  good  luck — Ganesha. 
2  "A  pool  of  lotuses." 


The  King's  Amour  39 

band:  he  is  the  true  elixir:  and  who  ever 
obtained  a  husband  without  praying  to 
Ganapati?  And  I  heard,  out  of  the  midst 
of  them,  a  voice  like  a  kokila,  saying:  Nay, 
do  not  leave  me  all  alone.  Then  said  another : 
Ha!  Ha!  dost  thou  imagine  that  the  Tusky 
One  will  turn  one  of  these  trees  into  a  hus- 
band for  thee?  There  is  nothing  to  be  feared. 
And  suddenly  they  all  ran  away,  like  a  flock 
of  pigeons  or  parrots  taking  flight,  leaving 
one  only  standing  still,  in  front  of  the  image 
of  the  god  in  the  tree. 

So  as  she  stood,  I  watched  her,  as  little 
aware  of  what  was  in  her  heart,  as  was  she 
of  who  was  just  beside  her.  And  she  waited, 
standing  absolutely  still,  watching  her  com- 
panions disappear.  And  then  she  turned, 
and  cast  a  glance  at  the  god  in  the  tree:  and 
she  looked  round,  as  if  apprehensive  lest 
someone  other  than  the  god  should  overhear 
her.  And  all  unconscious,  she  looked  straight 
at  me,  and  I  saw  her  for  the  first  time.  And 
at  that  moment,  another  god  saw  his  oppor- 
tunity, and  entered  my  heart,  through  the 


40  The  King's  Amour 

loophole  of  my  eyes.  And  certainly  he  never 
had  a  weapon  more  pointed  or  more  poisonous 
than  the  one  who  stood  before  me.  For  she 
was  nearly  as  tall  as  I  was  myself;  and  I 
think  that  the  Creator  must  have  made  her 
to  show  how  straight  a  thing  could  be  com- 
pounded of  a  multitude  of  intoxicating  curves. 
For  she  looked  as  slender  as  the  stalk  of  a 
sugar-cane:  and  yet  her  shoulders  and  her 
arms  and  her  bosom  and  her  hips  were  deep 
and  full  and  glorious  and  heavy;  and  as  she 
stood  resting  on  one  small  foot,  with  the  other 
knee  a  little  bent,  raising  both  her  arms  for  a 
moment  to  touch  with  her  fingers  the  mass 
of  dark  hair  knotted  on  the  top  of  her  head, 
which  she  turned  a  very  little  as  if  on  purpose 
to  exhibit  the  incomparable  poise  and  balance 
of  her  neck,  she  resembled  a  great  jar,  moulded 
by  the  celestial  Potter  as  a  receptacle  for  the 
nectar  churned  from  ocean,  or  a  vessel  des- 
tined to  catch  the  midnight  ooze  dripped  from 
the  moonstones  hanging  on  some  terrace  in 
the  elysium  of  Alaka. 

And  as  I  gazed  at  her,  bewildered  by  her 


The  King's  Amour  41 

beauty,  all  at  once,  like  one  recollecting  some- 
thing he  has  forgotten,  I  started,  and  I  said 
to  myself:  Can  it  be,  that  I  have  stumbled 
accidentally  on  the  very  thing  for  which  I 
have  been  looking  all  my  life?  Or  if  not  all, 
then  at  any  rate,  part  of  it,  in  this  delicious 
woman's  form?  For  I  seem,  somehow,  as  it 
were,  to  recognise  and  recollect  her,  though 
beyond  all  doubt,  I  never  saw  her  anywhere 
before.  For  who  that  had  ever  seen  her, 
even  for  an  instant,  would  ever  be  able  to 
forget  her  again?  (Ha!  Gauri,  very  blind  are 
mortals  to  their  destiny,  and  little  I  knew  that 
I  was  myself  to  give  the  lie  to  the  very  words  I 
spoke.) 

So  as  she  looked,  with  huge  sad  eyes,  full 
at  me,  without  seeing,  revolving  something 
in  her  mind,  I  began  to  tremble  like  a  leaf, 
unable  to  endure  them:  and  at  that  very 
moment,  she  smiled  a  very  little  to  herself, 
with  a  smile  that  caught  me  like  a  fly  in  the 
mesh  of  its  sweet.  And  she  turned  towards 
the  god,  and  stretched  out  her  arms  towards 
him,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice:  O  Rider  on  the 


42  The  King's  Amour 

Mouse,  these  silly  girls,  my  dear  companions, 
speak  idly,  without  thinking,  or  knowing 
what  they  say:  and  yet  they  resemble  archers 
that  hit  a  mark  at  which  they  did  not  aim: 
and  all  unaware,  they  have  touched  the  very 
heart  of  my  disease.  Yet  how  can  they,  who 
never  felt  it,  understand  the  pain,  which 
Love  inflicts  upon  his  hopeless  victims  ?  And 
who  was  ever  more  helpless  than  myself,  or 
what  maiden's  desire  was  ever  fixed  upon 
an  object  so  distant  and  inaccessible  as 
mine?  And  therefore  it  is,  my  heart  and 
my  feet  are  heavy,  and  the  weight  of  my 
body  seems  to  weigh  me  to  the  ground. 
And  sleep  has  forsaken  me,  and  I  am  be- 
come, as  it  were,  tinder  and  fuel  for  the 
flame  that  ever  burns  me.  My  sole  refuge  is 
in  thy  favour.  As  I  have  meditated  on  the 
sole  of  thy  foot  night  and  day,  do  thou  re- 
quite me  in  kind,  and  intercede  for  me  with 
the  deity  of  the  flowery  bow,  and  beg  of  him 
a  boon. 

And  she  stopped  short,  and  faltered,  and 
hesitated,  while  a  deep  red  blush  suddenly 


The  King's  Amour  43 

started  and  ran  like  a  conflagration  over  her 
face.  And  she  murmured,  as  though  to 
whisper  in  the  very  ear  of  the  god:  Make 
me,  O  Subduer  of  even  the  most  terrific 
Obstacles, l  the  wife  of  the  King  that  has  no 
wife;  and  give  him  to  me  for  a  husband.  And 
he  shall  bless  thee  as  well  as  I,  for  there  is 
no  one  to  pity  him  in  the  three  worlds,  ex- 
cept myself. 

And  as  the  words  left  her  lips,  she  turned 
instantly  deadly  pale.  But  I  started,  struck 
by  the  thunderbolt  of  astonishment.  And 
instantly,  delight  and  passion  poured  into 
my  soul  like  a  wave  of  the  sea,  and  almost 
broke  my  heart.  And  I  said  to  myself:  Ha! 
so  this  child  of  beauty  had  pity  for  me  that 
no  one  else  had.  Ha!  little  I  thought  to  find 
myself  shrined  in  the  heart  of  a  hermit's 
daughter.  And  instantly  I  left  my  covert. 
And  I  exclaimed:  O  maiden,  thou  art  surely 
the  favourite  of  the  elephant-god:  for  here 
I  am  in  person,  the  very  answer  to  thy 
prayer. 

1  Wignajit,  the  vanquisher  of  obstacles,  is  a  name  of  Ganesha. 


44  The  King's  Amour 

(Ha!  Bhagawati,1  art  thou  attentive?  And 
ike  goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on: 
I  listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck 
with  ike  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

*"Holy  One";  a  name  of  Parwati. 


VII 

AND  then,  that  dark-haired  beauty  stood 
for  a  moment,  staring  at  me  with  round 
bewildered  lotus  eyes,  in  which  shame  was 
mixed  with  terror  and  the  extremity  of 
wonder,  to  see  her  wish  granted  so  unex- 
pectedly as  soon  as  uttered:  and  then  she 
suddenly  swayed,  and  sank  to  earth,  bereft 
of  sense.  But  I  leaped  towards  her,  and 
caught  her,  and  received  in  strong  arms  the 
bride  given  me  by  herself  and  the  god.  And 
I  looked  towards  him,  as  he  watched  us,  say- 
ing: O  god  of  good  luck,  surely  thy  power 
must  be  very  great,  that  can  so  easily  bring 
about  things  apparently  impossible.  For 
what  could  possibly  be  more  unlikely  than 
that  I  should  have  come  here  as  I  did,  for  her 
to  find  me  in  the  bushes  in  the  very  nick  of 
time?  And  I  said  to  my  wife,  as  she  lay 
swooning  in  my  arms:  Dear,  though  thou 
hast,  like  an  abhisdrikd,  given  thyself  to  me 

45 


46  The  King's  Amour 

of  thy  own  accord,  I  will  not  abuse  thy  con- 
fidence, nor  take  an  unfair  advantage,  though 
I  would  give  my  soul  to  kiss  thee,  all  marble 
white  and  lifeless  as  thou  art,  on  those 
delicious  lips.  And  then,  I  shouted  aloud, 
saying  to  myself:  Doubtless  her  compan- 
ions cannot  be  very  far. 

And  hearing  the  shout,  all  the  deer  sud- 
denly stopped  grazing,  and  looked  at  me 
reproachfully:  and  in  a  little  while,  that  band 
of  maidens  also  reappeared.  And  seeing  me 
standing,  with  their  companion  in  my  arms, 
they  also  stopped  short,  as  they  ran  towards 
us,  and  stood,  exactly  like  the  deer  whose 
eyes  their  own  resembled,  balanced  in  the 
swing  of  irresolution,  half  terrified  of  me, 
half  drawn  towards  me  by  curiosity  and 
astonishment.  And,  seeing  them  at  a  stand,  I 
called  out:  O  timid  beauties,  do  not  fear:  for 
I  am  one  rather  to  protect  you  than  molest 
you.  Come  quickly  and  render  assistance 
to  this  lovely  playfellow  of  yours,  who  has 
suddenly  swooned  away  at  the  sight  of  me, 
as  well  indeed  she  might.  Then  they  came 


The  King's  Amour  47 

forward,  collecting  courage,  with  hesitation. 
And  one,  speaking  for  all  the  others,  said 
politely:  Sir,  who  art  thou,  and  what  is  thy 
name  and  family,  and  how  in  the  world  hast 
thou  suddenly  appeared  in  this  our  hermitage, 
in  which  nothing  ever  comes  but  the  hermits 
and  their  families? 

And  I  said  laughing:  O  fair  one,  I  am  only 
the  husband  of  this  sister  of  thine,  whom 
Ganapati  has  sent  her  in  answer  to  her  prayer. 
Take  her,  and  restore  her  to  life,  of  which 
for  the  moment  astonishment  has  deprived 
her:  and  she  will  herself  tell  thee  all  about  it. 

Then  those  maidens  busied  themselves 
about  her,  whispering  to  each  other,  and 
stealing  at  me  glances  out  of  the  corners  of 
tfieir  eyes.  And  I  said  to  them:  Where  shall 
I  find  her  parents,  or  her  guradians?  For 
since  the  god  has  given  her  to  me,  I  must  go 
and  ask  for  her  in  proper  form.  Then  they 
said :  Sir,  she  has  no  parents,  being  an  orphan 
under  the  protection  of  the  sage.  And  I 
said:  Take  me,  then,  into  the  presence  of  the 
sage. 


48  The  King's  Amour 

Then  some  of  them  led  me  away  to  a  pool, 
near  which  that  old  sage  was  seated,  buried 
in  meditation.  And  when  he  came  to  him- 
self, I  bowed  before  him,  and  told  him  who 
I  was,  and  explained  to  him  the  state  of  the 
case,  and  asked  him  for  his  ward.  Then 
that  old  man  said  slowly:  Take  her:  she  is 
thine.  For  all  this  tallies  exactly  with  a 
dream  which  I  had  concerning  her:  and  be- 
yond a  doubt,  that  Remover  of  Difficulties 
would  never  have  dropped  thee,  as  it  were, 
from  the  sky,  so  strangely  and  so  abruptly 
into  her  mouth,  had  it  not  been  his  express 
intention  to  unite  you.  And  what  the  deity 
desires,  let  us  not  oppose,  for  he  is  wise.1 
And  yet,  O  King,  many  times  in  this  lower 
world  have  mortals,  blinded  by  their  fate, 
asked  for  something,  and  rejoiced  to  obtain 
it,  which,  could  they  have  foreseen  the  future, 
they  would  have  striven  at  all  costs  or  hazards 
to  avoid:  and  it  may  be,  that  both  this 
maiden  and  thyself  are  instances  in  point. 

So  that  old  sage  spoke,  as  if  to  warn  me 

»  Ganapati  is  the  god  of  wisdom. 


The  King's  Amour  49 

of  the  future;  gifted,  by  reason  of  his  aus- 
terities, with  insight  and  prophetic  skill.  But 
I  disregarded  it,  putting  his  words,  like  wind, 
aside,  as  prompted  by  the  natural  despondency 
of  age.  And  I  said:  O  father,  I  accept  thy 
gift,  and  venerate  thy  wisdom.  But  as  for 
the  future,  who  can  tell,  or  who  can  escape 
the  destiny  that  is  written  on  his  brow? 

Then  said  that  old  far-seeing  sage:  Happy 
the  wife  that  her  lord  remembers:  but  alas 
for  the  wife  that  her  lord  forgets! 

(Ha!  Sati,1  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

*  The  Pure  One:    a  name  of  Pdrwatf. 


VIII 

THEN  I  took  leave  of  the  sage,  and  went 
and  found  my  followers,  and  returned  very 
quickly  to  my  capital:  and  I  came  again,  and 
fetched  my  bride,  and  married  her  with  all 
the  ceremonies.  But  my  subjects  were  so 
astounded,  to  see  that  I  had  somehow  or 
other  managed  to  find,  after  all,  a  wife,  that 
torn,  as  it  were,  asunder  by  amazement  and 
rejoicing,  they  almost  lost  their  reason.  And 
the  women,  in  their  vexation,  almost  aban- 
doned the  body,  exclaiming:  Who  is  this 
courageous  beauty,  who  has  actually  dared 
to  marry  one  whom  we  all  despised?  And 
they  all  waited,  as  if  expecting  something 
doomed  to  come  about. 

But  in  the  meanwhile  I,  having  found  a 
wife  in  spite  of  them,  proceeded  now  to  live 
with  her.  And  she,  for  her  part,  loved  me 
better  than  ever  Rati1  did  her  lord,  making 

1  Wife  of  the  god  of  love. 

50 


The  King's  Amour  51 

of  me  her  deity, 'and  as  it  were,  breathing 
only  by  my  permission,  and  existing  only  for 
my  delight.  And  yet,  O  Gauri,  I  requited 
her  not  in  kind.  For  I  loved  her,  it  is  true, 
with  passion,  and  exceedingly,  and  yet, 
strange!  with  a  love,  in  which,  I  know  not 
how,  there  seemed  always  to  be  one  thing 
wanting:  and  my  devotion  to  her  resembled 
a  pool,  in  which  the  lotus  that  completes  and 
makes  it  perfect  was  not  there.  And  this 
was  my  own  fault,  and  due  to  my  insatiable 
desire  for  something  further,  whose  nature 
I  could  not  tell.  For  I  was  haunted  con- 
tinually by  the  feeling  that  I  had  made  a 
mistake,  in  supposing,  when  I  saw  her  in  the 
hermitage,  that  she  had  been  the  very  thing 
I  wanted :  and  this  I  asked  myself  continually, 
doubting,  and  considering;  and  I  could  not 
make  my  mind  up  as  to  whether  she  was  or 
not.  And  thus,  though  my  wife  was  in  fact 
more  beautiful  than  the  moon,  and  utterly 
beyond  all  rivalry  or  comparison,  I  scrupled 
within  myself,  as  often  as  I  looked  at  her,  and 
said  to  myself:  Something  is  surely  wanting, 


52  The  King's  Amour 

and  yet  I  know  not  what  it  is.  And  thus, 
gnawing  regret  for  I  know  not  what  additional, 
and  vague  dissatisfaction,  mingled  always 
with  the  pleasure  that  I  drew  from  the  deep 
well  of  her  beauty;  and  she  perceived  it;  for 
who  can  hide  his  soul,  unless  he  shuts  his 
eyes,  or  who  can  cheat  a  loving  wife  into 
mistaking  the  measure  of  her  lord's  regard? 
Moreover,  my  wife  was  very  clever,  and  she 
saw  into  my  soul,  and  knew  me  far  better 
even  than  I  knew  myself.  And  thus  a  por- 
tion of  something  bitter  was  mixed  with  her 
love  also:  for  she  was  tortured  by  the  know- 
ledge that  she  was  lacking  in  something  that 
I  required:  and  a  little  shadow  of  sadness 
hung  like  a  cloud  over  the  sunshine  of  her 
gaiety,  and  she  was  ever  apprehensive  lest 
maybe  in  the  future  some  woman  other  than 
herself  should  cross  my  path,  more  exactly 
corresponding  to  my  model  than  herself. 
And  all  the  while  she  blamed  herself,  not  me, 
and  strove  to  make  up  for  her  deficiency  by 
superabundance  and  intensity  of  devotion 
and  affection:  and  she  resembled  one  repent- 


The  King's  Amour  53 

ing  of  a  crime  she  had  not  committed,  while 
the  real  criminal  stood  ever,  unreproved, 
before  her  eyes.  Aye!  beyond  a  doubt,  some 
crime  she  had  committed  in  a  previous  exis- 
tence must  have  been  the  reason  why  she  was 
joined  by  the  deity  to  such  a  husband  as 
myself.  Or  was  it  but  a  prank,  played  by  the 
roguish  god  of  love,  merely  for  his  own  amuse- 
ment? for  certainly  he  loves  to  fill  the  heart 
with  passion  for  an  object  all  unworthy  of  its 
esteem.  Nor  was  there  a  living  man  except 
myself,  who  could  have  found  in  my  wife 
were  it  only  the  shadow  of  a  defect.  But 
I  was  only  the  instrument  of  my  own  punish- 
ment, doomed  to  self-originated  misery,  by 
reason  of  my  parents'  crime. 

So,  then,  we  lived  together,  enjoying  a  hap- 
piness that  was  spotted,  like  a  panther's  skin, 
by  the  discontent  arising  from  my  own  imagina- 
tion. And  I  continued  wearing,  like  Wishnu, 
on  my  breast,  a  Koustubha1  of  which  I  did  not 
know  the  value,  until  in  my  infatuation  I  had 
broken  it  to  pieces  with  my  own  hands,  throw- 

» The  great  jewel,  so  named,  worn  by  Wishnu. 


54  The  King's  Amour 

ing  away  my  Shri. 1  And  then  at  last  there 
came  about  a  thing,  which  though  but  itself  a 
drop,  filled  up  the  cup  of  my  wife's  uneasiness, 
and  was,  as  it  were,  the  precursor  of  the  end. 
For  one  day,  as  I  was  roaming  at  sunset  in 
the  forest  with  my  wife,  we  saw,  coming 
along  towards  us,  an  old  ascetic.  And  as  he 
drew  near,  and  we  were  on  the  very  point  of 
bowing  to  his  merit,  suddenly  that  holy  old 
man  placed  his  bare  foot  exactly  on  a  blade 
of  withered  grass,  which  ran  into  it  like  a 
thorny  needle,  and  injured  him.  And  in- 
stantly, that  exasperated  old  man  uttered  a 
loud  yell,  and  began  to  hop,  nursing  his  foot; 
and  all  at  once  he  threw  himself  upon  his 
knees,  and  began  to  dig  and  grub  at  the  offend- 
ing blade,  clawing  at  it  with  his  nails  like  a 
porcupine,  and  uttering  grunts  and  squeals  of 
rage.  And  at  the  sight,  my  wife  was  seized 
with  a  sudden  fit  of  laughter  that  would  not 
be  controlled.  And  at  last  she  said  to  me, 
with  tears  standing  in  her  eyes:  Surely  that 
ascetic,  notwithstanding  his  austerities,  is  still 

» The  goddess  Shri  is  Wishnu's  wife :    and  the  word  also 
means  prosperity,  good  fortune,  brightness. 


The  King's  Amour  55 

but  a  poor  master  of  the  art  of  self-control, * 
who  can  let  out  anger  like  a  flood  upon  a 
senseless  object  for  a  fault  which  is  all  his  own. 

Then  that  acrimonious  old  sage  looked  at 
her  grimly.  And  he  said:  O  hilarious  ill- 
mannered  beauty,  that  scoffest  at  my  merit 
in  thy  ignorance,  not  having  perceived,  as  I 
did,  the  demon  that  had  entered  the  blade 
with  the  express  purpose  of  so  injuring  my 
foot  as  to  prevent  me  from  continuing  my 
pilgrimage  to  the  sacred  bathing-places,  know, 
that  thou  art  thyself  on  the  very  eve  of  suffer- 
ing, like  this  grass,  for  a  fault  not  thy  own, 
as  do  all  the  creatures,  animate  or  inanimate, 
of  this  lower  world,  involved  as  they  are  in 
the  network  of  criminality.  And  very  soon 
indeed  thy  own  self-control  will  be  tried  in 
the  hottest  fire;  and  then  thou  wilt  recollect 
thy  present  laughter,  and  repent  it,  and  atone 
for  it  with  tears.  For  learn,  that  thou  hast 
laughed  for  the  last  time  in  thy  life. 

And  instantly,  my  wife's  laughter  vanished, 

1  Because  to  "master  the  self,"  "overcome  the  ego,"  is  the 
very  essence  and  aim  of  asceticism:  and  jitdtmd,  the  name  of 
a  true  ascetic,  means  one  who  has  done  it. 


56  The  King's  Amour 

like  a  flame  suddenly  extinguished.  And 
she  said :  Reverend  Sir,  I  am  rightly  reproved 
by  thee,  and  my  laughter,  though  involuntary, 
was  altogether  without  excuse.  And  I  looked 
at  her,  and  said  within  myself:  Now  the  old 
muni  will  undoubtedly  be  mollified,  for  even 
a  stone  would  be  moved  by  the  beauty  of  her 
submission.  But  that  cantankerous  old  man 
would  not  be  appeased.  And  turning  his 
back  upon  her,  he  went  away,  muttering  and 
limping.  And  I  said  to  her:  No  matter:  let 
this  old  incarnation  of  ill-humour  go,  to  ac- 
cumulate merit1  where  he  will,  forgotten. 
But  my  wife  was  like  one  seized  with  sudden 
melancholy,  as  if  that  old  man's  words  had 
cursed  her,  casting  over  her  a  spell. 

(Hal  Kdli,2  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

1  The  virtue  of  an  ascetic  was  regarded  as  a  sort  of  actual 
lump  or  store  of  valuable  material,  a  bank  of  good  works, 
added  together  grain  by  grain,  ensuring  an  equivalent  reward. 

2  "Black,"  a  name  of  P£rwat£  (cp.  the  black  Virgin,  black 
Osiris,  etc.). 


IX 

AND  then,  almost  immediately  afterwards, 
that  came  about  which  she  foresaw  and  feared. 

For  one  day  it  happened,  that  as  I  sat  by 
my  palace  window,  I  heard  in  the  street  a 
noise.  And  I  listened,  and  lo!  it  became  a 
hubbub,  and  then  a  roar:  so  that  finally  I 
said  to  myself:  Doubtless  something  unusual 
is  going  on  in  the  city.  And  curious  to  know 
what  in  the  world  could  be  the  matter,  I  sent 
a  chamberlain  to  see.  So  then,  after  a  while, 
that  chamberlain  returned.  And  he  said,  with 
excitement:  O  Maharaj,  this  is  a  very  strange 
affair,  the  like  of  which,  as  I  imagine,  has 
never  occurred  before,  either  in  this  city  of 
ours  or  any  other.  For  I  learn  by  enquiry, 
that  there  came  into  the  city,  a  day  or  two 
ago,  an  old  mime,  from  nobody  knows  where. 
But  the  people  say,  that  he  must  be  a  Yaksha, 
or  a  Pishacha,  or  a  Rdkshasa,  or  it  may  be, 
some  Kinnara  or  Gandharwa,  banished  by 

57 


58  The  King's  Amour 

reason  of  a  curse  from  his  home  in  the  Snowy 
Mountain;  since  he  has  a  face  like  a  horse, 
and  is  clothed  as  nobody  else  was  ever  clothed 
before,  and  carries  about  with  him  a  long  flute, 
like  the  enemy  of  Kans.1  And  he  goes 
through  the  city  from  house  to  house,  dancing 
and  singing  and  playing  and  telling  stories: 
and  all  those  who  listen  to  his  songs  are 
driven  mad :  so  that  by  means  of  them  he  has 
set  the  whole  city  in  an  uproar.  And  now 
the  citizens  have  collected  in  a  body,  and 
seized  him,  and  at  this  very  moment  they  are 
carrying  him  away  outside  the  city,  to  offer 
him  up  a  sacrifice  to  Durga,  as  is  suitable. 
For  his  songs  have  set  wives  against  their 
husbands  and  husbands  against  their  wives, 
and  caused  many  of  the  citizens  to  abandon 
their  trades  and  their  families,  and  even 
their  bodies,  in  disgust.  For  he  plays  not 
so  much  upon  his  pipe  as  upon  every  man's 
heart,  telling  each  one  of  something  far  better 

1  Krishna  :  the  flute  player  par  excellence.  The  Gand- 
harwas  and  Kinnaras  were  the  heavenly  musicians  with 
horses'  heads.  This  last  peculiarity  does  not  seem  easy  of 
explanation. 


The  King's  Amour  59 

than  he  has  got,  and  inflaming  him  with  the 
fire  of  discontent  and  a  raging  thirst  for 
pictures  in  the  sky,  so  that  he  utterly  despises 
his  lot  and  everything  about  him.  And  as 
I  said,  some,  out  of  extreme  abomination, 
and  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  have  already  abandoned 
the  body  of  their  own  accord;  and  beyond  a 
doubt,  if  he  remained  alive,  gradually  all  thy 
subjects  would  follow  their  example,  till  none 
were  left  at  all.  But  by  this  time,  he  will 
have  paid  the  penalty  of  his  crimes,  and 
answered  for  them  with  his  life. 

And  instantly,  I  started  from  my  seat.  And 
I  shouted:  Run!  run!  away!  fly!  pursue  this 
criminal,  and  save  him,  and  bring  him  here, 
alive  and  uninjured,  or  thy  own  life  shall 
be  the  forfeit.  And  as  I  spoke,  I  looked,  and 
lo !  my  wife  was  standing,  gazing  at  me,  pale 
as  snow,  with  terror  in  her  eyes.  And  she 
stretched  out  both  hands  towards  me,  mur- 
muring: See  him  not,  see  him  not.  And  I  said 
quickly:  O  fearful  one,  of  what  art  thou 
afraid?  And  as  I  did  so,  the  chamberlain 
disappeared,  like  an  arrow  shot  out  of  a  bow: 


60  The  King's  Amour 

and  immediately  I  heard  a  tumult  in  the 
palace,  and  the  galloping  of  horses  in  the 
street.  And  I  waited,  walking  up  and  down, 
listening,  with  a  soul,  as  it  were,  on  tiptoe,  so 
great  was  my  anxiety  to  see  this  miserable 
mime  brought  back  alive.  And  I  muttered 
to  myself:  Ha!  who  knows  what  I  may  learn 
from  this  fellow,  coming,  as  it  seems,  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth?  And  at  the  very  thought 
of  him,  all  my  old  longing  suddenly  revived 
within  me,  and  my  soul  began  to  burn  with 
the  fire  of  anticipated  delight:  and  all  at  once, 
I  caught  sight  of  my  wife's  eyes,  fixed  upon 
me,  as  I  wandered  up  and  down,  like  nails. 

And  I  started,  as  I  saw  them,  for  they 
resembled  the  eyes  of  one  gazing  at  his  own 
death  coming  straight  towards  him.  And 
I  stopped  short,  and  stood,  looking  at  her; 
and  as  I  did  so,  she  came  quickly  up  to  me, 
and  said  with  emotion:  O  think  again,  before 
it  is  too  late.  Send  away  this  old  musician, 
unhurt  by  all  means,  if  thou  wilt,  but  above 
all,  unseen,  unheard,  by  thee. 

And  I  answered  her  roughly,  for  my  heart 


The  King's  Amour  61 

smote  me,  within:  and  I  knew  that  she  was 
right,  and  that  whatever  might  befall,  she 
had  good  cause  to  reproach  me,  and  to  fear 
for  herself.  For  my  anxiety  to  see  him  was, 
as  it  were,  infidelity  to  her  in  another  shape. 
And  feeling  that  she  fathomed  my  very  soul, 
I  said  with  anger:  O  Kuwalayini,  what  is 
this?  Art  thou  then  so  jealous,  even  of  my 
ears,  that  I  must  not  even  so  much  as  listen 
to  the  music  of  an  old  itinerant  mime,  lest 
he  should  tell  me  a  story  of  some  other 
woman  than  thyself? 

And  instantly,  she  shrank,  as  if  my  words 
had  been  a  blow.  And  a  shadow  settled 
down  upon  her  face,  which  changed,  and  lost 
its  colour  and  expression,  till  it  looked  like  a 
mask:  and  at  that  very  moment,  there  was 
heard  a  bustle  in  the  palace;  and  immedi- 
ately, the  chamberlain  returned.  And  he 
said  joyfully:  Long-lived  one,  we  are  here, 
having  snatched  that  melancholy  mounte- 
bank from  the  very  jaws  of  death:  and 
we  placed  him  upon  a  horse,  and  brought 
him  hither  like  the  wind:  and  now  he  is 


62  The  King's  Amour 

outside,  waiting  only  for  your  order  to 
admit  him. 

And  I  said:  Bring  him  in.  So  they  went 
out,  to  fetch  him.  But  my  wife  stood  gazing 
at  the  door,  like  an  incarnation  of  despair. 

(Ha  !  Kanyd, i  art  thou  attentive  f  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

1  Maiden:  a  name  of  Pdrwati  (cp.  Kore). 


X 

AND  then,  the  mime  entered,  and  stood  at 
last  on  the  marble  floor  before  me.  And  I 
gazed  upon  him,  and  at  the  very  sight  of  him, 
I  became  instantly  lost  in  wonder,  so  that  I 
utterly  forgot  my  wife.  And  I  said  within 
myself:  Surely  the  Creator  framed  him  in  a 
moment  of  singularity,  and  as  if  wishing  to 
exhibit  skill  in  the  manufacture  of  the  gro- 
tesque. Or  can  it  be,  that  he  is  really  one  of  a 
class,  and  that  there  actually  is  another  being 
like  him  anywhere  in  the  three  worlds?  For 
tall  though  he  was,  he  stooped,  with  high  and 
rounded  shoulders,  till  he  resembled  a  crane, 
with  long  thin  arms  and  legs  that  were  alto- 
gether bare;  for  he  wore  as  his  only  garment, 
as  it  were,  a  bodice  of  red  bark,  that  fitted  him 
like  a  skin,  covering,  like  the  shell  of  a  tor- 
toise, nothing  but  his  trunk.  And  as  my 
chamberlain  had  said,  his  face  was  like  a 
horse's  face,  extraordinarily  long,  and  his 

63 


64  The  King's  Amour 

two  large  eyes  were  set  in  it  at  a  distance 
from  each  other  and  his  mouth,  and  were 
full  of  timidity  and  distrust.  And  two 
enormous  ears,  fleshy  and  with  hairy  tips, 
resembling  those  of  a  cow,  stuck  straight  out 
from  his  head,  around  which  fell  like  a  mane 
a  bushy  mass  of  coarse  straight  hair:  and 
his  lips  twitched  continually,  as  if  they  were 
alive.  And  round  his  neck  hung  by  a  string 
a  long  bamboo  cane,  pierced  with  innumerable 
holes,  which  he  never  ceased  to  feel  at  with 
fingers  that  were  knotted  like  the  joints  of 
the  pipe  on  which  they  played.  And  he 
was  covered  all  over  with  bits  of  grass  and 
withered  leaves,  as  if  he  carried  about  with 
him  evidence  of  the  forest  beds  on  which  he 
slept  at  night.  And  he  looked  like  some 
strange  creature,  sprung,  by  a  wild  Pishdcha 
marriage,  of  a  mixed  inhuman  breed. 

And  after  a  while,  I  said:  What  kind  of 
man  art  thou,  if  indeed  thou  art  a  man  at  all: 
and  whence  hast  thou  come,  to  breed  mischief 
in  my  city?  But  he  made  no  answer.  Then 
I  said  again:  Is  it  fear  that  keeps  thee  silent, 


The  King's  Amour  65 

robbing  thee  of  thy  faculty  of  speech,  and 
seeming  to  fill  thy  eyes,  as  well  indeed  it 
might,  seeing  that  by  my  orders  thou  hast 
just  been  snatched  from  the  mouth  of  death? 
And  still  he  made  no  answer:  looking  at  me 
all  the  while  with  shifty  eyes  and  lips  that 
seemed  to  mock  me,  being  always  as  it  were 
on  the  very  verge  of  utterance  that  never 
came,  and  fumbling  and  feeling  with  his 
fingers  at  his  pipe.  .And  at  last  I  said  with 
irritation:  Play,  then,  if  thou  canst  not  speak, 
and  give  me  a  specimen  of  that  skill  of  thine, 
which  drives  my  people  mad. 

And  then,  all  at  once,  that  lean  old  mime 
made  a  stride  towards  me,  so  sudden  and  so 
eager,  that  I  started  against  my  will.  And 
he  put,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  his  long  pipe 
to  his  lips,  bending  forward  as  he  did  so,  and 
fixing  his  large  eyes  on  mine:  and  yet  they 
seemed  to  look,  not  at  me,  but  at  something 
far  away  behind  me.  And  as  I  listened,  all 
at  once,  there  came  from  that  pipe  a  strange 
sound,  resembling  the  low  muttering  of  many 
voices,  and  the  rustling  of  innumerable  leaves, 


66  The  King's  Amour 

and  a  pattering  as  of  the  rain,  and  a  whistling 
and  a  sighing  like  that  of  shrill  winds  singing 
in  the  hollow  canes,  and  wandering  at  night- 
time with  a  melancholy  murmur  in  the  creak- 
ing branches  of  the  Dewaddrus  on  the  sides 
of  the  Snowy  Mountain,  mingled  with  a 
rushing  like  the  water  of  a  stream.  And  it 
rose  and  fell  in  waves,  till  it  dinned  in  my 
ears  like  the  roar  of  a  mountain  torrent:  and 
then  again  it  died  away,  vanishing  by  slow 
degrees  as  it  were  into  the  distance,  with  a 
sweetness  that  brought  the  tears  into  my 
eyes,  and  I  strained  my  ears  to  follow  it  and 
catch  it  as  it  went,  in  agony  lest  it  should  be 
gone.  And  so  as  I  listened,  lost  in  an  ecstasy 
of  sound,  drowned  as  it  were  in  the  boom  and 
the  eddies,  and  the  echoes  of  that  wind- 
begotten  strain,  as  if  against  my  will,  I  closed 
my  eyes.  And  at  that  very  moment,  I  heard 
the  old  mime  singing,  if  indeed  it  was  he  that 
sang.  For  the  tones  of  some  faint,  far-off 
caressing  voice  blended  and  mixed  and  twined 
and  twisted  and  rose  and  fell  with  the  sound 
of  the  flute,  and  the  drowsy  spell  of  that  sleepy 


The  King's  Amour  67 

music  resembled  the  noise  of  humming  bees, 
soothing  the  brain  of  a  tired  man,  resting  at 
noon  by  a  roadside  tree.  And  that  sweet  voice 
rocked  my  soul  like  a  breeze,  swinging  it 
quietly  to  and  fro,  as  it  whispered  into  my  ear: 
Far  away  over  the  Lord  of  Hills,  buried  in  the 
deep  soft  northern  snow,  I  know  of  a  dark 
blue  pool.  Sing  hey1!  for  the  haunt  of  the 
swan.  And  the  pool  was  made  of  a  single 
tear,  that  rolled  from  the  eye  of  the  Snow- 
born  Maid,  to  see  Love's  body  burned.  Sing 
ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  And  on  its 
bank  there  grows  a  flower,  a  great  dark 
beautiful  purple  flower,  whose  fellow  cannot 
be  found  on  earth.  Sing  hey!  for  the  haunt 
of  the  swan.  For  it  sprang  from  an  accidental 
seed,  that  fell  from  Wishnu's  pdrijdta  as  he 
hurried  across  the  sky.  And  the  south  wind 
caught  and  wafted  it  to  the  very  edge  of  that 
snow-framed  pool,  and  laid  it  there  to  grow. 
Sing  ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  And  it 
grew  and  grew  and  opened  and  bloomed,  and 

«  Luckily  for  the  translator,  the  Sanskrit  ejaculations  he, 
aho,  ahaha,  are  almost  idenllcal  in  sound  with  familiar 
English  equivalents. 


68  The  King's  Amour 

loaded  the  air  with  a  scent  that  spoke  of  a 
half -remembered  heaven.  Sing  hey!  for  the 
haunt  of  the  swan.  And  every  day  out  of  the 
pool  there  comes  to  water  that  fragrant  flower 
a  spirit  of  the  snow,  holding  high  with  round 
white  arm  on  a  great  soft  shoulder1  a  golden 
jar.  Haha!  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  For 
Prakriti  compounded  her  to  serve  that  heavy- 
scented  flower,  and  made  her  elementally  of 
universal  hues  and  stuffs  and  essences  and 
shapes.  And  she  spun  her  hair  from  the 
setting  sun,  a  woof  of  dark  red  gold.  Sing 
ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  And  she 
painted  her  eyes  with  liquid  blue  drawn  from 
a  mountain  tarn,  and  stained  her  lips  with 
wet  fresh  ore,  scarlet  wrung  out  raw  and  pure 
from  the  very  heart  of  the  snowy  rock. 
Sing  hey!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  And 
she  moulded  her  body  of  soft  sea  foam,  and 
dyed  her  skin  in  vats  of  snow,  and  gave  her 
an  ear  of  an  ocea.n  shell.  Haha!  the  haunt 
of  the  swan.  And  she  stole  her  breast  from 


» This  is  where  a  high  caste  woman  carries  her  jar;  a  low 
caste  woman  bears  it  on  her  head. 


The  King's  Amour  69 

the  swell  of  the  sea,  and  drew  her  hips  from 
the  great  round  hills,  and  went  to  creepers 
for  her  arms,  and  pliant  canes  for  her  slender 
waist.  Sing  ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan. 
And  she  made  her  a  soul  of  air  and  fire,  and 
borrowed  from  the  southern  breeze  the  fra- 
grance of  her  deep  red  hair,  and  went  for  the 
colour  of  the  robe  that  drapes  her  silver  body 
to  her  own  great  flower  at  eve.  And  slowly 
moves  that  great  white  woman,  clasped  in  its 
purple  folds,  doubly  bent  as  she  moves  along 
with  the  weight  of  her  pitcher  and  her  breast. 
Sing  hey!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  Yellow 
and  gold  is  her  water  pitcher,  and  hard  and 
white  is  her  milky  breast.  Sing  ho!  for  the 
haunt  of  the  swan.  Does  not  the  dusk  of  a 
starry  night  hide  and  shroud  the  round  white 
hills?  so  are  the  limbs  of  that  large-eyed 
lady  wrapped  in  her  own  robe's  purple  folds. 
Haha !  the  haunt  of  the  swan.  And  all  around 
that  lonely  pool  lie  travellers  that  have  been 
done  to  death,  unable  to  endure  the  sweet  and 
deadly  poison  of  her  kiss.  Sing  hey!  for  the 
haunt  of  the  swan.  For  her  kiss  is  like  a 


70  The  King's  Amour 

snowflake's  fall,  sing  ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the 
swan;  light  and  hardly  to  be  felt,  sing  hey! 
for  the  haunt  of  the  swan;  and  colder  than  the 
winter's  moon,  sing  hey!  for  the  haunt  of  the 
swan;  and  hotter  than  a  burning  flame,  sing 
ho!  for  the  haunt  of  the  swan,  and  given  to  all 
who  can  find  the  way,  Ha!  ha!  to  the  haunt  of 
the  swan. 

And  as  the  old  mime  sang,  he  raised  his 
voice,  louder  and  louder,  till  it  ended  in  a  roar 
that  stunned  my  ears  like  a  waterfall,  sound- 
ing like  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  lips  of 
the  Great  God.  And  as  he  ceased,  I  ran 
towards  him.  And  I  cried  out:  Ha!  ha!  the 
haunt  of  the  swan.  And  then  I  fell  at  his 
feet  in  a  swoon. 

(Ha!  Bhairawi, l  art  thou  attentive  ?  And 
the  goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

i  The  Terrible  one :  a  name  of  Parwati. 


XI 

So  I  lay  there,  I  know  not  how  long, 
drowned  in  the  flood  of  that  sudden  swoon. l 
And  when  at  last  I  came  to  myself,  I  saw  all 
the  officers  of  my  household  gazing  at  me 
with  anxious  eyes.  But  I  saw  no  mime.  Then 
I  said  sorrowfully:  Alas!  where  is  my  mime? 
And  a  chamberlain  came  forward,  and  said: 
Maharaj,  when  we  saw  that  that  old  deceiver 
had  made  thee  also  mad,  like  all  the  rest,  and 
that  for  all  that  we  could  do,  we  could  not 
bring  thee  to  thyself,  we  laid  hold  of  him, 
and  carried  him  away  again,  and  cast  him  into 
the  river,  to  drown  him.  And  lo!  instead  of 
drowning,  that  curious  mime  sank  straight 
down  into  the  water,  pipe  and  all,  like  a  stone, 

1  A  swoon  is  the  conventional  effect  of  all  catastrophes  in 
Oriental  stories.  Those  who  live  long  in  the  East  learn  that 
there  is  less  exaggeration  in  this  than  at  first  sight  would 
appear.  Apathetic  externally,  the  Hindoos,  at  least,  are 
subject  to  sudden  wild  outbursts  of  emotional  excitement 
that  would  astound  the  more  phlegmatic  European. 

71 


72  The  King's  Amour 

and  never  returned.  And  we  fished  for  him 
with  nets,  but  he  was  not  there,  and  now  we 
cannot  tell  what  has  become  of  him. 

And  then,  with  a  shout,  I  rose  up,  and  ran 
upon  that  unlucky  chamberlain,  and  struck 
him  to  the  ground.  And  I  cried  out:  Slaves, 
you  have  destroyed  him,  and  me  also.  And 
I  fell  upon  them  all,  beating  and  striking 
them  till  they  fled  before  me;  and  I  handled 
them  so,  that  at  last  they  took  counsel,  and, 
led  by  the  physicians,  took  me  prisoner  by 
force,  and  bound  me;  doing  me  no  harm,  but 
confining  me  to  my  bed,  and  setting  over  me 
a  guard.  And  there  for  many  days  I  lay, 
raving  and  struggling,  and  refusing  to  eat  or 
drink,  till  I  fell  into  a  raging  fever,  and  be- 
came, as  it  were,  altogether  mad.  And  in  my 
delirium,  I  saw  before  me  nothing  but  a  great 
white-armed  woman,  with  hair  that  fell  all 
round  her  like  a  shower  of  gleaming  gold, 
seated  by  a  purple  flower  the  colour  of  her 
own  clothes,  and  looking  intently  at  me  with 
half-shut  colossal  eyes,  the  colour  of  the  pool 
by  which  she  sat.  And  I  wailed  continually, 


The  King's  Amour  73 

like  a  sick  child:  Alas!  the  swan:  alas!  the 
swan.  And  the  physicians  flocked  around 
me,  utterly  at  a  loss,  vainly  endeavouring  to 
cure  me  by  drugs  and  incantations  and  the 
letting  me  of  blood.  And  finally  they  gave 
it  up,  saying  to  each  other:  He  is  entered  and 
possessed  by  some  demon,1  and  there  is 
nothing  to  be  done.  And  they  left  me  to 
myself.  And  then  there  came  a  blank;2  and 
I  remember  absolutely  nothing;  for  oblivion 
took  me,  like  a  nurse,  into  her  arms,  and  I  lay 
like  a  dead  man  in  a  long  swoon. 

And  at  last,  after  many  days,  I  came  back 
to  myself.  And  yet,  there  was  something  of 
me  that  was  wanting,  left,  as  it  were,  behind. 
For  I  had  utterly  forgotten  all  the  people 
round  me:  and  I  resembled  a  stranger,  seeing 
all  their  new  faces  for  the  first  time  in  my  life. 
And  I  looked  upon  them  all  as  enemies,  saying 
to  myself:  Who  are  all  these  gaolers,  that 
watch  me,  keeping  me  forcibly  in  prison? 

'The  terrible  old  notion  of  possession  (bhutawishta)  is  an 
Indian  idea :  and  depends  on  the  theory  of  metempsychosis. 

2  Literally,  an  elision  (lopa),  the  word  grammatically  em- 
ployed to  denote  the  cutting  off  a  letter. 


74  The  King's  Amour 

Now  then,  I  must  by  all  means  manage  to 
escape,  and  go  very  quickly  to  discover  that 
haunt  of  the  swan.  For  the  tune  of  that 
old  mime's  song  rang  always  in  my  head,  and 
the  gold-haired  woman  with  her  flower  stood 
before  me  as  if  painted  like  a  picture  on 
my  eyes,  whenever  I  closed  their  lids.  And 
therefore  I  lay,  cunningly,  still  as  death, 
without  violence  of  any  kind:  till  after  a  while, 
they  took  away  my  guard,  and  left  me  alone, 
to  ramble  up  and  down,  and  wander  about 
the  palace  as  I  pleased,  considering  me  mad. 
For  I  never  said  anything  to  anyone  I  met, 
but  Alas!  the  swan:  alas!  the  swan. 

And  then,  after  a  while,  watching  my 
opportunity,  I  stole  out  of  the  palace  in  the 
middle  of  the  night.  And  I  stepped  noise- 
lessly over  the  bodies  of  servants  and  watch- 
men, sleeping  here  and  there;  and  I  went 
down,  and  out  into  a  garden,  and  found  a 
little  door  in  its  wall,  which  I  opened  with  a 
key.  For  through  this  very  door  I  used  for- 
merly to  pass,  whenever  I  wished  to  leave  the 
palace  in  disguise. 


The  King's  Amour  7S 

So  I  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  open  door, 
looking  out.  And  as  I  did  so,  all  at  once  I 
uttered  a  cry.  And  I  exclaimed:  Alas!  alas! 
Here  I  am  on  the  very  point  of  starting  on 
my  journey,  and  yet  I  do  not  even  know 
which  way  to  go. 

And  at  that  moment,  I  heard,  just  behind 
me,  a  faint  sigh.  And  I  started,  as  I  heard  it, 
saying  to  myself  in  terror:  My  gaolers  have 
discovered  me.  And  I  turned,  very  quickly, 
and  looked,  and  lo!  before  me  was  my  wife. 

(Ha!  Windhyawdsini,1  art  thou  attentive? 
And  ike  goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak 
on:  I  listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck 
with  the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

1  Dweller  in  the  Windhya  hills:  a  name  of  Parwatf. 


XII 


0  GAURI,  I  say,  it  was  my  wife:  and  yet,  at 
the  time,  though  I  gazed  at  her,  I  knew  not 
who  she  was.     For  all  recollection  of  her,1 
as  of  the  others,  was  utterly  obliterated  from 
my  soul.     And  I  said  to  her,  sternly :  Who  art 
thou?    Then  she  said:  Dost  thou  not  remem- 
ber to  have  seen  me  before?    And  I  said:  No. 
(Alas!  O  Gauri,  now  I  know,  what  then  I  knew 
not:  and  doubtless  she  had  watched  me  through 
my  fever,    and   ever   since:   and   dogging   my 
footsteps,  had  followed  me  in  the  middle  of  the 
night.)     And  she  laughed,  and  said:  It  is  no 
matter  who  I  am.     And  yet,  know,  that  I  am, 
of  all  the  people  in  this  city,  the  one,  whom, 
at  this  moment,  thou  wouldst  most  of  all 
desire  to  see.     And  I  looked  at  her,  wonder- 
ing who  she  was  and  what  she  meant.    And 

1  This  forgetfulness  is  part  of  the  "machinery"  of  Indian 
story-tellers  and  dramatists:  even  European  readers  will  re- 
collect it  in  Shakuntald. 

76 


The  King's  Amour  77 

after  a  while,  she  said  again,  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  she  feared  to  be  overheard:  Thou  art 
at  this  very  moment  about  to  start  for  the 
haunt  of  the  swan.  Say,  is  it  not  so?  And 
I  gazed  at  her  in  terror,  and  I  debated 
within  myself,  whether  I  should  not  seize 
her  by  the  throat  and  kill  her,  lest  she  should 
go  and  tell  the  others  and  prevent  my 
escape.  And  presently  I  said:  Thou  art 
right:  I  am  on  the  very  point  of  starting: 
and  what  is  that  to  thee?  And  she  said:  I 
know  the  way. 

And  when  I  heard,  I  was  suddenly  filled 
with  a  flood  of  joy,  and  could  scarcely  believe 
my  ears.  And  in  my  delight,  I  was  ready  to 
take  her  in  my  arms;  but  hastily  she  shrank 
away.  And  I  exclaimed:  Thou  art  the  very 
fruit  of  my  birth  in  a  female  form.  But  who 
in  the  world  art  thou,  to  know  the  way  ?  And 
she  answered:  Who  I  am,  I  cannot  tell  thee: 
for  now  I  have  abandoned  the  straight  and 
narrow  path  of  female  conduct;  and  like  a 
chariot,  whose  wheel  has  left  the  rut,  I  have 
run  out  of  the  course,  by  assuming  independ- 


78  The  King's  Amour 

ence.  And  yet  it  has  been  of  necessity,  and 
not  of  choice.  And  she  sighed;  and  said 
again:  Know  this  much  only,  that  I  am  a  wife 
whose  husband  has  abandoned  her,  beguiled, 
as  thou  hast  been  thyself,  by  that  old  mime. 
And  he  left  me,  utterly  forgetting  me,  for  the 
sake  of  some  marvellous  unknown  beauty 
that  lives  far  off  in  the  haunt  of  the  swan. 
So  finding  him  gone,  I  went  to  the  mime,  and 
said:  Tell  me  the  way  to  go,  and  that  quickly; 
otherwise  I  will  curse  thee,  and  thy  head 
shall  instantly  split  in  two.  *  And  he,  fearing 
my  curse,  told  me:  and  now,  if  thou  wilt, 
I  will  lead  thee  also. 

So  she  spoke,  deceiving  me;  and  I,  in  my 
folly,  was  utterly  deceived,  so  great  was  my 
desire  to  reach  my  goal.  Ha!  who  can  fix 
the  limit  of  a  woman's  cunning,  when  love 
is  her  prompter  and  her  spur?  And  I  said: 
Come,  then,  and  let  us  make  forward,  without 
loss  of  time,  before  the  morning  breaks,  and 
my  absence  is  discovered:  for  then  certainly 

1  Cursing  is  only  another  form  of  prayer:  and  of  curses, 
that  of  a  pure  woman  was  particularly  to  be  dreaded,  if  we 
may  credit  our  authorities. 


The  King's  Amour  79 

they  would  stop  me.  And  together  we  went 
out,  and  closed  the  door.  And  I  said  to  her: 
Which  way  shall  we  go?  Then  she  said: 
There.  And  she  pointed  to  the  Seven  Rishis, 1 
shining,  away  before  us.  And  she  said:  We 
must  go  northward,  and  still  northward, 
till  we  come  to  the  place  where  the  ways 
divide. 

And  all  at  once,  she  began  to  sob.  And  I 
looked  on  her  with  compassion,  and  I  said: 
Courage,  O  thou  deserted  lady.  For  many 
have  crossed  the  sea  of  separation,  and  met 
again:  and  doubtless  thou  shalt  find  thy 
husband,  away  at  thy  journey's  end. 

And  I  gazed  at  the  road,  lying  before  us  in 
the  moonlight,  white  and  still.  And  it  ran 
out,  long  and  thin,  far  away  into  the  night, 
until  its  end  was  lost.  And  as  I  looked,  I 
said  to  myself:  Long,  long  is  the  highroad:  and 
yet,  the  end  must  come  at  last.  And  I  turned 
to  my  wife  and  said:  Come.  And  she  said, 
in  a  low  voice:  Go  thou  on  before,  and  I  will 
follow. 

» The  Great  Bear. 


8o  The  King's  Amour 

So  we  went  out  upon  the  road,  I  first:  and 
she  followed,  just  behind. 1 

(Ha!  Ambikd,2  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on:  I 
listen.  And  she  caressed  his  snowy  neck  with 
the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

» In  India,  when  a  man  and  woman  walk  together,  he  goes 
first,  and  she  follows,  a  step  or  two  behind,  with  veiled  head. 
And  I  never  see  them  so,  without  thinking  of  Proudhon's  ad- 
mirable remark,  that  man  comes  down  the  ages,  with  woman 
attending  him,  pone  sequens.  Those  very  foolish  people  who 
are  at  present  trying  to  make  them  walk  abreast  fail,  as  Plato 
did,  to  perceive,  that  when  masculine  and  feminine  are 
reduced  to  neuter,  life  loses  all  its  charm. 

2  The  Mother:   a  name  of  Parwatf. 


XIII 

AND  then,  day  and  night,  and  night  and  day, 
together  we  went  on,  along  the  dusty  road, 
which  lengthened  ever  out  before  us,  till  it 
seemed  to  be  indeed  without  an  end.  And 
whenever  we  were  tired,  we  rested  by  the 
roadside.  And  here  too,  but  for  my  wife, 
I  should  have  ended  my  journey  almost  as 
soon  as  it  began:  for  she  had  remembered,  as 
I  had  forgotten,  all.  For  when  we  were 
hungry,  we  should  have  starved,  had  she  not 
foreseen  it,  and  brought  with  her  costly 
ornaments  and  jewels,  one  of  which,  every 
now  and  then,  she  broke  as  we  went  along, 
and  sold  it  by  pieces  in  the  cities  that  we 
came  to  and  passed  through,  and  so  purchased 
food.  And  thus  we  went  on  slowly,  unnoticed, 
among  so  many  other  travellers  and  pilgrims ; 1 
and  all  the  while  I  saw  nothing  that  we  passed, 

i  India  is,  even  now,  full  of  pilgrims  travelling  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

«  81 


82  The  King's  Amour 

devoured  as  I  was  with  desire  to  arrive  at  that 
haunt  of  the  swan,  and  seeing  nothing  but 
that  white- armed  beauty  and  her  flower  and 
her  pool,  with  the  song  of  that  old  mime  ring- 
ing for  ever  in  my  ears  as  I  listened  to  the 
wind  in  the  trees.  And  I  went  on  ever,  like 
a  man  in  a  dream,  paying  hardly  any  atten- 
tion to  my  companion,  and  living  within 
myself:  and  every  time  we  stopped,  chafing, 
and  almost  crying  with  impatience,  which 
robbed  me  of  any  feeling  of  fatigue.  And 
every  time  she  soothed  me,  and  nursed  me  as 
though  I  were  a  child,  singing  me  asleep,  and 
telling  me  stories,  and  using  every  means  to 
make  me  forget  my  impatience  and  the  way. 
And  all  the  while  we  went,  day  by  day  she 
grew  thinner  and  weaker,  and  I  saw  it;  and 
yet  I  paid  no  heed  to  it,  thinking  only  of 
proceeding.  And  at  length,  she  could  no 
longer  walk  quickly,  nor  indeed  at  all,  save 
a  very  little  at  a  time,  and  she  stopped  to 
rest  herself,  as  it  were,  at  every  moment. 

So  then,  after  a  while,  I  said  to  myself: 
This  is  altogether  unendurable:  for  we  go  so 


The  King's  Amour  83 

slowly,  that  the  termination  of  my  life  will 
come  upon  me,  before  we  reach  the  journey's 
end.  And  yet  I  cannot  leave  her  behind,  and 
go  alone,  being,  as  it  were,  tied  to  her,  by 
reason  of  my  ignorance  of  the  way.  And 
therefore  I  must  somehow  or  other  extract 
from  her  the  secret:  and  then  I  shall  be  free. 
And  one  day,  as  we  rested  by  the  road,  I 
said:  O  thou  easily  tired  one,  if  we  stop  in  this 
manner  every  moment,  we  shall  never  get 
along.  And  what  is  the  necessity  for  travel- 
ling together,  since  our  objects  are  entirely 
distinct?  Tell  me,  then,  the  way;  so  that  I 
may  go  on  before  thee,  and  without  thee,  and 
make  haste.  Then  said  my  wife:  Alas!  I 
cannot  tell  thee,  till  we  have  arrived  at  the 
place  where  the  ways  divide.  And  I  said: 
Where,  then,  do  they  divide,  and  what  is  the 
reason  why  thou  canst  not  tell  me?  Then 
she  said:  Be  patient:  now  we  shall  very  soon 
be  there.  But  till  we  get  there,  I  must  not 
and  will  not  tell  thee.  For  that  old  mime, 
from  whom  I  learned  the  way,  forbade  me, 
saying:  I  will  return  thee  curse  for  curse. 


84  The  King's  Amour 

For  as  thou  didst  lay  me  under  a  curse,  if  I 
did  not  tell,  so  will  I  lay  thee  under  another, 
if  thou  dost.  The  day,  therefore,  that  thy 
tongue  shall  tell  anyone  the  way,  shall  be  the 
day  of  thy  death.  And  therefore  it  is  that  I 
only  show  to  thee  the  way,  but  cannot  tell. 
So  she  spoke,  in  the  cunning  of  her  love, 
deceiving  me  again.  But  I  looked  at  her 
with  anger:  and  I  said  to  myself:  What  does 
it  matter  to  me,  whether  she  live  or  die, 
provided  only  that  I  know  the  way?  And 
from  that  moment,  I  behaved  to  her  with 
harshness,  looking  upon  her  as  the  cause  of 
my  delay.  And  I  began  to  hate  her;  and  I 
hurried  her  along,  refusing  to  stop,  or  let  her 
stop,  till  she  absolutely  sank  down,  utterly 
unable  to  proceed;  and  I  treated  her  with 
cruelty,  blinded  as  I  was  by  anger  and  by 
passion,  so  that  I  did  not  perceive  that  I  was 
killing  her.  And  I  turned,  as  it  were,  my 
back  upon  her,  treating  her  as  if  she  were  my 
enemy:  and  all  the  while  she,  on  her  side,  took 
all  my  ill-behaviour  with  humility,  as  if  she 
had  deserved  it.  Alas!  very  terrible  is  the 


The  King's  Amour  85 

cruelty  of  those  whose  minds  are  blinded  by 
the  pursuit  of  a  single  object,  and  darkened 
by  selfishness  and  passion.  Thus  do  they  fall 
at  last  into  the  hell  of  lower  births,  as  has 
been  the  case  with  me. 

(Ha!  Umd,1  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Swan,  speak  on:  I  listen. 
And  she  took  away  from  his  neck  the  lotus  of 
her  hand.) 

1  A  name  of  Pdrwati:  of  unknown  signification. 


XIV 

So  we  continued  to  go  on,  and  every  day 
my  wife  became  more  feeble,  and  I  more 
brutal;  and  at  last,  one  night,  as  I  was  urging 
her  along,  she  fell  down,  as  it  were,  almost 
fainting,  under  a  great  ashwatta  tree  that  grew 
by  the  side  of  the  road.  And  seeing  her  lying, 
I  broke  out  into  fierce  abuse.  And  I  exclaimed : 
Thou  art  the  cause  of  my  unhappiness,  and 
now  I  am  the  victim  of  thy  selfishness.  Am 
I  to  perish,  because  thou  wilt  not  tell  me  my 
road,  in  thy  anxiety  to  preserve  thy  own 
miserable  life?  Then  she  said,  gently:  It  is 
but  a  little  way  now.  For  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, we  have  all  but  come  to  the  very  place 
where  the  ways  divide.  And  she  leaned  with 
closed  eyes  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and 
so  remained,  like  one  in  a  swoon.  But  I, 
in  my  frenzy,  threw  myself  upon  the  ground, 
at  a  little  distance,  and  lay;  and  there,  after 
a  while,  sleep  overtook  me,  for  we  had  come 

86 


The  King's  Amour  87 

many  miles  since  the  morning,  in  the  heat 
of  the  sun. 

And  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  I  awoke;  and 
at  that  moment,  I  listened,  and  I  heard  her, 
crooning  and  singing,  as  it  were,  to  herself, 
alone  with  the  moon.  And  she  said:  Alas 
for  me,  and  alas  for  him,  and  alas  for  the  things 
that  are  all  forgotten!  O  tyrant  Love,  had 
I  done  thee  harm  in  a  former  birth,  that  thou 
hast  selected  me  in  this  as  a  specimen  of  thy 
persecution?  Lo!  I  am  burned  up  in  thy 
flame,  and  become,  as  it  were,  like  a  lotus 
flower,  trodden  under  the  careless  foot  of  a 
forest  elephant,  to  whom  it  had  offered  itself 
in  vain.  But  now,  O  Love,  I  shall  escape  thee, 
for  I  have  taken  final  refuge  in  the  arms  of  a 
stronger  God  than  thee.  Thou  hast  been  to 
me  a  poison,  but  Death  shall  be  to  me  a 
medicine,  cooler  and  more  delicious  than  the 
rays  of  yon  cold  moon.  O  Death,  thou  art 
more  merciful  than  bitter  heartless  Love, 
and  now  I  transfer  to  thee  my  homage.  For 
by  thy  aid,  I  have  won  my  battle,  and  stolen 
as  it  were  the  march  upon  my  rival  of  the 


88  The  King's  Amour 

purple  flower;  and  long  before  he  is  with  her, 
I  shall  be  safe  with  thee. 

And  as  I  listened,  I  said  to  myself:  She  is 
mourning  for  her  husband.  And  suddenly 
I  rose  up,  and  went  towards  her.  And  I  said 
roughly:  Come,  rise:  it  is  time  to  go.  And 
she  looked  at  me  with  dreamy  eyes,  for  still  she 
was  leaning  against  the  tree,  and  I  think 
she  had  never  moved,  since  I  saw  her  last 
before  I  slept.  And  she  said  slowly:  Thou 
art  right:  it  is  time:  for  thee,  and  for  me  also. 
And  now,  as  I  told  thee,  we  have  come  to  the 
place  where  the  ways  divide. 

And  I  looked  at  her  in  perplexity.  And  I 
said:  Art  thou  dreaming?  Here  there  is  no 
division  of  the  road,  which  runs  straight  on, 
single  and  alone,  into  the  dark  of  the  night. 
Then  she  said:  That  is  thine:  but  here,  mine 
turns  aside.  And  now,  then,  I  will  tell  thee 
the  way.  And  if,  as  thou  goest,  thou  shouldst 
chance  upon  my  husband,  give  him  this, 
from  me. 

And  all  at  once,  she  rose  up,  very  quickly, 
with  a  great  effort.  And  before  I  knew  what 


The  King's  Amour  89 

she  was  doing,  she  put  up  her  arms,  and 
clasped  my  neck,  and  kissed  me.  And  as 
she  did  so,  I  felt  her  arms  grip  me  like  a  cord, 
and  her  body  shook  all  over.  And  suddenly, 
she  let  go,  and  fell  back  again  against  the 
tree. 

And  I  said  in  astonishment:  What  is  this, 
and  what  dost  thou  mean?  And  she  looked 
up  at  me,  and  suddenly  she  began  to  laugh. 
And  she  said :  Thy  memory  is  of  the  shortest. 
Go  on  now:  for  thy  way  is  open  before  thee. 
Now  thou  canst  go  on  alone,  and  I  have  told 
thee  all  I  know,  about  the  way.  And  again 
I  said:  What  way?  And  she  said:  Find  it 
now,  without  me,  and  I  can  tell  thee  nothing 
more:  for  learn,  that  I  know  the  way  no 
better  than  thou  dost  thyself. 

And  I  gazed  at  her,  stupefied  with  the 
extremity  of  amazement.  And  I  said:  What! 
Hast  thou,  then,  deceived  me,  and  led  me  on, 
all  this  time,  pretending  to  know  the  way,  that 
all  the  time  thou  didst  not  know? 

And  she  looked  at  me,  with  steady  eyes,  and 
answered:  Yes. 


QO  The  King's  Amour 

(Hal  Bhawdni,1  art  thou  attentive?  And  the 
goddess  answered:  Swan,  speak  on:  I  listen. 
And  she  stroked  his  snowy  neck  no  more,  looking 
at  him  with  angry  eyes.) 

»A  name  of  Parwati:  probably  a  feminine  relating  to 
Bhawa,  the  Lord,  who  is. 


XV 

AND  I  stood  there  for  a  moment,  gazing  at 
her  silently,  scarcely  crediting  my  own  ears. 
And  I  said  to  myself:  I  am  cheated:  and 
now  this  woman  has  ruined  me,  and  led  me 
utterly  astray.  And  all  at  once,  rage  flowed 
in  upon  my  soul,  and  almost  burst  my  heart. 
And  with  a  scream,  I  threw  myself  upon  her, 
and  caught  her  by  the  throat.  And  I  shook 
her  like  a  leaf,  I  know  not  how  long,  grasping 
her  throat  in  a  grip  like  that  of  death:  and 
suddenly  I  flung  her  from  me,  and  turned, 
and  fled  away,  hardly  knowing  what  I  did, 
along  the  road,  alone.  So  I  ran  on  in  the 
moonlight,  till  at  last  from  sheer  exhaustion 
I  could  absolutely  run  no  more,  while  my 
soul  was  filled  within  me  with  the  blackness 
of  despair. 

And  all  at  once,  I  stopped,  and  stood.  And 
I  said  to  myself:  What  am  I  doing,  and 
where  is  the  advantage  of  rushing  on  at 

91 


92  The  King's  Amour 

full  speed,  not  even  knowing  whether  I  am 
going  in  the  right  direction?  Alas !  I  have  been 
all  befooled  by  this  execrable  incarnation  of 
deception,  masquerading  in  a  woman's  shape; 
and  now  I  am  like  nothing  but  a  little  drop 
of  water  in  the  very  middle  of  the  sea,  to 
which  all  ways  are  alike.  And  all  my  labour 
has  gone  for  nothing.  Alas!  alas!  Who 
will  bring  me  to  the  haunt  of  the  swan? 

And  I  looked  round  in  the  silence,  seeing 
as  it  were  the  objects  round  me  for  the  first 
time.  And  I  saw  that  I  was  utterly  alone  in 
the  dark  plain,  through  which  the  road  ran, 
clear  and  white  and  without  an  end,  as  if 
to  mock  me,  like  a  chain  of  silver  on  a  sable 
robe.  And  I  looked  towards  the  east,  and 
saw  the  pale  dawn  glimmering  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  world,  as  if  preparing  with  ap- 
prehension to  mingle  with  the  moonlit  night. 
And  at  that  moment,  I  looked,  and  lo!  there 
stood  on  the  road  beside  me  that  very  same 
old  mime,  exactly  as  he  stood  beside  me 
in  my  palace  hall,  before. 

And  as  I  gazed  at  him  in  terror,  my  hair 


The  King's  Amour  93 

stood  straight  up  on  my  head.  And  then, 
all  at  once  I  uttered  a  terrible  cry.  And  I 
exclaimed :  Ha !  so  thou  art  here  again.  Thou 
shalt  not  escape  me,  this  second  time. 

Then  that  old  mime  looked  at  me,  with 
dreadful  eyes,  and  he  said  slowly:  Thy 
memory  is  of  the  shortest.  And  as  he  spoke, 
I  shuddered,  and  started,  for  he  used  her 
very  words.  And  as  I  stood  staring  at  him, 
like  a  picture  painted  on  a  wall,  he  said  again 
with  a  mocking  smile:  Art  thou,  then,  so  sure, 
that  we  have  met  only  once  before?  Is  this 
only  the  second  time? 

And  even  as  he  spoke,  that  old  mime 
disappeared:  and  in  his  place,  there  stood 
before  me  the  old  ascetic,  at  whom  my  wife 
had  laughed,  when  he  pricked  his  foot  with  a 
blade  of  grass.  And  he  said:  Dost  thou 
not  remember  me,  or  is  thy  recollection  still 
at  fault?  And  I  looked  at  him,  amazed.  And 
as  I  did  so,  once  again  he  disappeared:  and 
I  saw  before  me  the  old  Bhikshu,  who  met 
me  with  my  father  long  ago,  before  the 
palace  gates.  And  he  said  to  me,  very 


94  The  King's  Amour 

slowly:  O  child,  born  in  the  shadow  of  a 
sin,  didst  thou  imagine  thou  couldst  escape 
the  ripening  of  the  fruit  of  the  creeper  of 
crime? 

And  then  again,  he  was  gone:  and  I  was 
left  alone.  And  as  at  first,  I  saw  before  me 
nothing  but  the  empty  road. 

And  at  that  very  instant,  I  woke  as  it 
were  from  a  long  dream.  And  memory 
rushed  suddenly  back  like  light  into  my 
soul.  And  I  cried  out:  Haha!  haha!  she  was 
my  wife;  it  was  my  wife.  And  all  the  while 
she  stood  beside  me,  and  yet  I  did  not  know 
her.  And  like  a  madman,  I  have  been  running 
after  phantoms,  and  now  I  am  her  murderer. 
And  there  came  over  me  suddenly  a  horror, 
that  lifted  my  hair  from  my  body:  and 
unable  to  endure  it,  all  at  once  I  fell  to  the 
ground,  struck  by  the  thunderbolt  of  remorse 
and  grief.  So  I  lay  in  the  road,  like  a  dead 
man,  while  day  slowly  came  back  into  the 
world. 

And  then  again,  after  a  long  while,  I  started 
to  my  feet.  And  I  struck  my  hands  together, 


The  King's  Amour  95 

crying  aloud:    What  if  she  were  not  dead? 
Still,  still  there  may  be  time. 

(Ha!  Kdtydyani,1  art  thou  attentive?  And 
the  goddess  answered:  Dear  Swan,  speak  on: 
I  listen.  And  once  more  she  caressed  his 
snowy  neck  with  the  lotus  of  her  hand.) 

»A  name  of  Parwati. 


XVI 

AND  then  I  began  to  run.  And  as  I  ran,  I 
sobbed  and  wept,  heaping  curses  on  myself 
for  my  delay,  and  saying  within  myself: 
Had  I  only  started  sooner,  I  might  have 
been  in  time.  Alas!  my  memory  is  of  the 
shortest.  And  I  laughed  aloud  in  my  despair, 
and  ran  on,  rent  as  it  were  in  pieces  by  bitter 
grief  and  wild  laughter  and  horrible  appre- 
hension, for  well  I  knew  she  would  be  dead, 
and  yet  I  thirsted  with  fierce  desire  to  find 
her  still  alive.  And  I  ran  on  as  it  were  in  a 
swoon,  hardly  conscious  I  was  running,  but 
with  a  soul  whirling  with  passionate  strain  for 
a  single  object,  to  reach  the  place  where  I  had 
left  her.  So  I  ran,  sobbing,  till  the  sweat  fell 
from  my  limbs  like  rain,  blinding  me,  dropping 
from  my  hair  into  my  eyes ;  and  my  heart  began 
to  break  within  me,  and  my  breast  to  choke 
and  gasp  for  breath.  And  all  at  once  I  saw 

away  on  the  road  before  me  the  great  tree 

96 


The  King's  Amour  97 

standing  where  she  fell.  And  at  the  sight, 
my  speed  and  strength  returned  to  me.  And 
I  ran  as  if  with  wings,  and  reached  that  tree, 
and  looked,  and  lo!  there  lay  my  wife  still, 
exactly  as  I  threw  her  down.  And  with  a 
shout,  I  ran  towards  her,  and  threw  myself 
on  the  ground  beside  her,  and  took  her  in 
my  arms.  And  instantly,  I  shuddered  at  the 
touch  of  her:  for  she  was  cold:  and  she  was  a 
body  without  a  soul. 

And  I  let  her  fall  to  the  ground,  and  stood 
up.  And  with  both  hands,  I  tore  my  hair 
out  of  my  head,  and  stooping  down,  I  heaped 
upon  it  dust  like  rain.  And  I  struck  myself 
upon  the  mouth,  and  wailed  aloud:  and  so 
I  stood  there,  raving,  in  the  agony  and 
ecstasy  of  intolerable  grief,  mad  for  the 
second  time.  Ha!  Gauri,  very  wonderful  is 
the  folly  of  the  race  of  men,  who  mourn  in 
vain,  too  late,  too  late,  catastrophes  of  which 
they  are  themselves  the  cause.  So  I,  having 
done  my  wife  to  death  with  open  eyes,  stood 
there  as  it  were  offering  to  her  spirit  the  water 1 

1  Water  is  offered  to  the  spirits  of  the  dead. 


98  The  King's  Amour 

of  my  futile  tears,  and  bathing  her  body  with 
unavailing  lamentation,  well  knowing  it  was 
waste. 

So  then,  after  a  while,  I  stooped,  and  sat 
down  on  the  ground  beside  her,  and  lifted  her 
on  my  knee.  And  I  began  to  speak  to  her, 
as  if  she  were  alive.  And  I  said:  Come,  it  is 
but  a  little  while  since  thou  didst  strain 
thy  dear  arms  about  this  worthless  neck. 
Haha!  my  memory  is  very  short,  yet  well  do 
I  remember  how  close  was  thy  embrace. 
And  in  return  for  it,  I  slew  thee.  Now,  put 
them  round  again.  And  I  strove  to  make 
them  meet  once  more  around  my  neck,  but 
they  refused,  standing  out  straight  and  stiff, 
like  branches  of  a  dry  tree.  And  I  wept  again, 
holding  her,  cold  as  she  was,  close  to  my 
heart,  and  chattering  in  vain  to  her,  with 
words  that  had  no  meaning,  even  had  she 
been  alive. 

And  at  the  last,  I  rose  up,  lifting  her  in  my 
arms.  And  I  said:  Come,  now,  we  will  go  on 
together  as  before.  Yet  not  upon  my  road, 
either  one  way  or  the  other.  Didst  thou  not 


The  King's  Amour  99 

say  thyself,  that  here  the  ways  divided,  and 
that  thy  way  turned  aside?  Ha!  rogue,  thou 
didst  deceive  me :  but  now  we  will  go  together, 
along  this  thorny  way.  And  I  turned  off 
the  road,  and  entered  the  jungle,  and  pushed 
through  its  pathless  trees  and  branches, 
carrying  my  dead  wife  in  my  arms.  So  we 
went  on  together,  while  the  thorns  and 
branches  tore  me,  yet  I  felt  them  no  more 
than  did  my  wife.  And  sometimes  I  stumbled, 
and  we  fell  together  to  the  ground;  and 
always  I  picked  her  up  again,  and  we  went 
on  as  before.  And  all  the  while,  the  sun 
rose  higher  and  higher  into  the  sky,  as  if  to 
follow  us  and  watch.  And  so  we  went  on, 
and  all  the  while  I  talked  to  her:  and  all  at 
once,  we  came  upon  a  little  pool  of  water, 
lying  hidden  as  it  were  among  the  trees. 

And  at  the  sight,  I  let  my  wife  suddenly 
drop  upon  the  ground:  and  I  began  to  clap 
my  hands.  And  I  exclaimed:  Ha!  after  all, 
we  have  arrived,  and  beyond  a  doubt,  this 
is  that  very  haunt  of  the  swan.  And  now 
I  know  what  to  do.  And  after  all,  my  wife 


ioo  The  King's  Amour 

was  right,  and  has  led  me  well,  and  wisely: 
and  I  have  found  the  object  of  my  search,  on 
her  way,  not  my  own.  And  doubtless  the 
deity  himself  has  guided,  unknown  to  me,  my 
footsteps  to  this  pool. 

And  then,  very  quickly,  I  knelt  beside  my 
wife.  And  shaking  loose  her  long  dark  hair, 
I  tied  it  round  my  neck,  so  tightly  that  it 
almost  choked  me.  And  then  I  took  her  in 
my  arms,  and  going  to  the  pool,  I  leaped 
with  her  into  its  cold  dark  water.  And 
together  we  sank  down  into  its  depths,  and 
so  we  reached  another  birth.  And  by  the 
favour  of  the  deity  no  doubt  it  was,  that 
we  were  born  again  a  pair  of  swans. 


Ill 
A  Mime  of  Deity 


i  or 


A  Mime  of  Deity 

AND  at  that  very  moment,  there  rang  in  the 
air  the  scream  of  a  swan.  And  instantly,  the 
swan  exclaimed :  Ha !  there  is  my  wife,  calling 
to  me  to  come  to  her.  O  Gauri,  fare  thee  well : 
for  now  my  time  is  up,  and  I  must  go.  And 
he  left  the  water,  and  rose  up  soaring  into  the 
blue  air,  and  flew  away,  answering  his  mate 
with  loud  screams. 

And  the  Daughter  of  the  Mountain  called 
after  him:  Stay!  O  swan,  return,  and  bring 
me  thy  wife  to  see.  But  the  swan,  paying  her 
no  attention,  disappeared  over  the  hill.  And 
as  the  goddess  gazed  after  him,  suddenly  the 
bee  also  started  from  her  bosom,  and  ex- 
claimed: O  Gauri,  I  am  warmed,  and  I  too 
have  a  wife.  And  in  a  moment,  he  also  flew 
away.  And  the  snake  slid  from  her  neck,  and 
glided  silently  away,  and  was  lost  along  the 

ground.     And  the  bear  said  politely :  O  Durga, 

103 


104  A  Mime  of  Deity 

surely  that  swan  was  a  good  story-teller, 
but  a  very  bad  husband:  and  now  I  will 
not  be,  like  him,  the  destruction  of  my 
family:  therefore  I  take  leave  of  thee,  with 
a  coat  sanctified  by  the  touch  of  thy  lotus 
foot.  And  he  trotted  away,  over  the  hill; 
and  the  Daughter  of  the  Mountain  was  left 
alone. 

And  she  looked  round,  and  said  sadly  to 
herself:  See  how  all  these  husbands  go  quickly 
to  their  wives.  I  only  am  forsaken.  And 
tears  from  the  well  of  self -commiseration  rose 
up  into  her  eyes.  And  at  that  moment,  she 
heard  behind  her  a  noise  of  steps.  And  she 
looked  and  saw,  coming  towards  her,  a  great 
white  bull. 1 

And  instantly,  she  ran  to  him,  and  put  her 
arm  around  his  mighty  neck.  And  she  said, 
leaning  against  his  side,  and  hiding  her  face 
against  his  hump :  O  Nandi,  dear  Nandi,  I  am 
most  miserable. 

And  Nandi  put  round  his  huge  head,  as  she 
leaned  against  him,  and  licked  her  ankle  with 

»  Nandi  is  Shiwa's  vehicle. 


A  Mime  of  Deity  105 

his  tongue.  And  he  bellowed,  very  gently, 
and  said,  in  deep  tones:  How  should  the  Mis- 
tress of  the  World  be  miserable?  Then  said 
Parwati:  Alas!  mistress  though  I  be,  I  am, 
notwithstanding,  deserted  by  the  world.1 
And  as  she  spoke,  she  felt  Nandi  changing  as 
she  leaned  against  him;  and  she  looked  up 
quickly,  and  uttered  a  cry.  For  Nandi  was 
gone,  and  she  was  leaning  against  the  Great 
God.  And  she  hung  her  head,  blushing  as  she 
did  so.  And  the  moon-crested  god  took  her 
in  his  arms,  and  said,  looking  at  her  with 
affection:  O  wayward  one,  thy  memory  is  of 
the  shortest. 

And  instantly,  that  sister  of  the  snowflake 
started,  looking  at  him  in  amazement.  Then 
said  the  god  with  a  smile:  Hast  thou  then 
forgotten  that  our  parting  was  thy  doing  and 
not  mine?  Or  didst  thou  think  the  World 
would  ever  be  absent  from  his  mistress,  even 
for  a  moment?  Know,  that  I  was  with  thee 
all  the  time.  For  I  was  the  swan,  that  stole 
from  thee  caresses  by  telling  thee  a  tale,  and 

1  Observe  that  world  here  means  also  the  Great  God  (bhawa). 


io6  A  Mime  of  Deity 

I  was  the  bee,  that  rested  on  thy  breast,  and 
I  was  the  snake,  that  twined  myself  about  thy 
neck,  and  I  was  the  bear,  that  lay  near  thee  to 
support  thy  foot:  and  again  I  was  Nandi, 
against  whom  thou  didst  lean.  And  thus  all 
the  while  I  penetrated  in  disguise  the  armour 
of  thy  anger,  and  was  caressed  by  thee  against 
thy  will.  And  know,  moreover,  O  Daughter 
of  the  cold  white  hill,  that  thy  anger  was  with- 
out a  cause.  For  Ganga  is  my  attribute: 
and  even  I  could  not  exist  without  my  proper 
attributes.  But  thou  art  my  wife,  and  the 
other  half  of  me. 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  gave  that  beautiful 
one1  a  kiss.  And  instantly  he  said:  Ha! 
thou  art  very  cold,  even  for  a  child  of  the 
snow.  And  the  goddess  shivered  a  very 
little,  and  said  :  I  have  been  sitting  for  so 
long,  motionless  and  silent,  by  this  cold 
pool.  And  moreover,  my  heart  was  ice, 
within  me,  for  I  was,  as  I  imagined,  away 
from  thee. 

i  This  may  also  mean  his  left  half  (wama).  Wamika  is  a 
name  of  Pdrwati,  including  a  pun. 


A  Mime  of  Deity  107 

Then  said  the  Great  God:  See! 

And  the  Daughter  of  Himalaya  looked  up, 
and  as  she  did  so,  there  came  a  change  over 
the  pool.  For  the  cold  air  suddenly  became 
warm,  and  the  water  suddenly  changed  colour, 
and  its  blue  altered  from  black  to  pale,  and 
its  lotuses  suddenly  blushed  with  red,  and 
great  trees  suddenly  appeared  around  it, 
and  bushes  started  out  around  them,  and 
suddenly  burst  forth  into  blossom,  loading 
the  warm  breeze  that  fanned  them  with  fra- 
grance of  the  champak  and  the  mango  and  the 
sandal  and  the  south.  And  innumerable  bees 
hummed  about  those  magic  flowers,  and  beau- 
tiful birds  like  emeralds  and  rubies  floated  and 
sang  about  the  trees :  and  it  was  as  though 
time  had  been  annihilated,  and  Winter  sud- 
denly overtaken  and  ousted,  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  by  Spring. 

And  the  goddess  said,  with  wonder  in  her 
lotus  eyes :  This  is  thy  doing,  O  moony-crested : 
and  all  these  fair  flowers  with  their  fragrance 
are  illusion,  and  unreal.  Then  said  Mahesh- 
wara:  O  simple  one,  this  illusion  differs  only 


io8  A  Mime  of  Deity 

from  reality  in  that  it  will  not  last  so  long. 
For  what  is  Time,  but  I  myself  ? 1  and  what 
are  the  worlds  but  mere  illusion,  and  a  thing, 
like  these  flowers,  produced  for  my  diversion, 
and  a  play,  of  which  I  am  myself  the  sole  and 
only  mime?  For  as  in  the  case  of  the  swan, 
and  all  thy  other  late  companions,  it  is  I  who 
am  the  background  and  the  only  true  reality, 
and  all  they  are  only  shapes,  images,2  and 
phantoms  and  appearances  of  me. 

And  even  as  he  spoke,  there  came  to  the 
edge  of  that  Manasa  lake  an  old  pilgrim,  who 
had  travelled  all  his  life  to  reach  it  and  die  in 
its  vicinity.  But  the  Great  God  was  aware  of 
his  arrival,  as  he  drew  near.  And  as  that  old 
pilgrim  looked  towards  them,  he  saw  neither 
god  nor  goddess,  but  only  a  pair  of  royal 
swans,  billing  each  other  on  the  edge  of  that 
cold  lake. 

»  Kala,  Time,  is  a  name  of  Shiwa,  and  derived  from  a  root 
meaning  to  count:  as  Aristotle  understood,  who  understood 
everything. 

2  Pratika. 

THE  END 


M  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Complete  Catalogues  cent 
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"  A  Book  that  is  a  Book."—N.  Y.  Sun 


A  DRAUGHT  OF  THE  BLUE 


TOGETHER     WITH 

AN  ESSENCE  OF  THE  DUSK 

Translated  from  Original  Manuscripts 

By 
F.  W.  BAIN 

Translator  of  A  Digit  of  the  Moon 

Mr.  E.  V.  Lucas  writes  to  the 
London  Bookman  as  follows: — 

*'  Mr.  Bain's  stories  are  full  of  wistfulness  and  beauty. 
There  is  a  tenderness,  a  richness  of  color,  a  warmth  of 
passion  and  an  elemental  understanding  of  men  and 
women  .  ,  .  They  seem  to  me  to  place  Mr.  Bain  on 
an  eminence  isolated  and  unique  .  .  .  No  words  that 
I  can  write  can  fittingly  express  the  fascination  of 
these  books." 

"  A  book  of  enchantment  .  .  .  Something  so  like 
genius  that  it  is  impossible  to  tell  the  difference  .  .  . 
The  story,  "  A  Draught  of  the  Blue,"  is  exquisitely 
poetic,  while  the  "  Essence  of  the  Dusk  "  is  more  like 
a  mediaeval  romance  of  adventure.  The  stories  are  de- 
lightful in  themselves  and  should  serve  to  give  an  im- 
pression of  the  real  India." — JV.  Y.  Sun. 

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A  Digit  of  the  Moon 

and 

Other  Love  Stories  from 
the  Hindoo 

Translated  from  the  Original  Manuscripts 
by 

F.  W.  BAIN 

Crown  8vo,  with  IllustrationSf  $1,50 


"  *  Here,'  says  Mr.  Bain,  *  is  a  fairy  tale  which 
I  found  in  an  old  Hindoo  manuscript ' — for  our- 
selves, we  prefer  to  look  upon  Mr.  Bain's  story  as 
a  work  of  luxuriant  fancy,  the  inspired  recreation 
of  a  busy  man.  The  stories  are  wholly  charming, 
at  once  gorgeous  in  fancy,  and  yet  delicate  and 
tender."—  The  Spectator. 

"  Charming  love  stories  that  will  be  absolutely 
novel  to  most  readers.  .  .  .  They  are  delicate, 
vivid,  and  told  in  beautiful  English.  They  show 
Hindu  life  and  thought  in  the  true  light,  a  thing 
worth  doing  in  view  of  the  mushy  mysticisms  and 
theosophical  gibbering  that  have  obscured  it  in 
this  country."—^.  Y.  Sun. 


Q.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

New  York  London 


By  John  Galsworthy 

Villa  Rubein 


Crown  8vo. 

"Mr.  Galsworthy  has  served  a  long  apprenticeship  and 
has  reached  the  fulness  of  his  powers.  He  is  already  one  of 
the  few  novelists  who  really  count,  and  it  is  safe  to  prophesy 
for  him  an  ever  increasing  fame."  —  London  Daily  Mail. 

The  Country  House 

Crown  8vo.     $1.50 

**  Clever  beyond  anything  we  have  seen  lately,  is  this  most 
artistic  story."  —  The  Outlook. 

"  Told  delicately,  skilfully,  with  abundant  wit  and 
satire."—  N.  Y.  Sun. 

"  Keenly  satirical  and  exceedingly  entertaining."  —  Boston 
Advertiser. 

The  Island  Pharisees 

Crown  8vo.     Revised  Edition.     Entirely  Rewritten.     $i.J>o 

"It  is  a  masterly  work,  strong,  vivid,  observant,  and 

stimulating     ...     A  story  so  vivid  in  its  intensity  that  it 

seems  to  shine  out  above  anything  else  that  is  being  produced 

in  contemporary  fiction."  —  London  Daily  Mail. 

The  Man  of  Property 

Crown  8vo.     $i.jo 

"  One  of  the  few  volumes  among  recent  works  of  fiction  to 
which  one  thinks  seriously  of  turning  a  second  time  —  a  book 
in  which  an  intelligent  man  could  browse  with  satisfaction, 
even  with  profit.  It  has  in  it  some  of  the  generous  qualities 
which  make  '  Vanity  Fair  '  the  wholly  delightful  work  it  is. 
The  whole  is  a  sound  and  equable  piece  of  work,  deserving 
high  praise."  —  The  Athenaum. 

fl.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

New  York  London 


66 A  collection  of  wholesome  and 
delightful  tales" 

The   Folh  Afield 

By 

Eden   Phillpotts 

Author  of 
"  CHILDREN  OF  THE  MIST,"  "  SONS  OF  THE  MORNING,"  etc. 

Crown,  8vo.     -     $1.5O 


TH  E  variety  that  characterizes 
these  stories  is  one  of  both 
scene  and  character,  containing 
stories  of  love  and  adventure  on  sea 
and  land.  The  backgrounds,  laid  in 
with  vividness  and  opulence  of  color, 
have  for  the  most  part  the  sunny  luxuri- 
ance of  the  South  of  France,  of  Italy, 
and  of  North  Africa.  The  types  of 
character-  heroes,  heroines,  and  super- 
numeraries are  as  varied  as  the  settings 
of  the  stories.  Mr.  Phillpotts'  heroines 
are  singularly  attractive,  now  by  their 
beauty  and  their  ardor,  now  by  their 
gentleness  and  purity. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

Ne-w  "YorK  London 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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